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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166242">Lies #3: Craniotomy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverRaySong/pseuds/RiverRaySong'>RiverRaySong</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lies [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Brain Surgery, Brutal Murder, But he doesn't even know it, Doctors &amp; Physicians, Gen, Gore, He's had such a terrible life, Horror, Hospitals, I know we're running from a serial killer, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Logic | Logan Sanders Needs a Hug, Logic | Logan Sanders-centric, Murder, Poor Logic | Logan Sanders, Psychological Horror, Serial Killers, also I don't know whether Kyle has a crush, and Jay's just like, and Logan just wants to escape, because that's the sensible thing, but either way it's not happening, but let's talk about your trauma, dude you've been living this way?, or just wants to be friends with Logan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:27:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverRaySong/pseuds/RiverRaySong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>~A Sanders Sides horror fanfic~ Logan is a doctor in San Francisco who specializes in the brain. When the hospital is locked down from an outside threat, Logan realizes that the danger may be inside their own walls.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lies [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787554</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This fanfic is the third installment of the Lies series. Although reading the first two books (Lies #1: Panic and Lies #2: Father) is not required, it is recommended to read them first.</p><p>This fanfic contains disturbing topics. If any of the following warnings specify one of your triggers, do not read. Reader discretion advised.</p><p>TW: Gore, suicide contemplation, usage of uncensored swearing, and murder.</p><p>This fanfic is also on the shorter side, being 66 pages (23,204 words). Do not turn away because of this, it is still very descriptive and well written.</p><p>This fanfic is the third in the series and is centered on Logan Sanders. The following and preceding books are each centered on a different side. Also note that they go backwards in chronological order. The order of when the books take place is this: #4, #3, #2, #1, #5. Keep this in mind when future books are published.</p><p>That is all. Enjoy this fanfic.</p><p>********************</p><p>On a dim, chilly August day in San Francisco, California, traffic was thick throughout the streets of the city. The weather was mostly clear, but the silver skyscrapers made everything bleaker. In the south end of the city, in a single-bedroom apartment, there lived a 24-year-old man by the name of Logan Sanders.</p><p>His last name had not always been Sanders, of course. During his whole childhood and teenager years, he had felt a strange disconnect with his previous name. The moment he had turned eighteen he changed it to Sanders. He’d seen the name once when he was young- although he didn’t know where exactly- and for some reason it felt important to him, so he’d chosen it to be his new name. The bills hadn’t been an object, as by that point he’d already gone through a year of medical residency training and had more than enough money to pay. In fact, as of the current day he had only had a medical license for a year. Of course, that was to be expected- usually, people didn’t get one until they were at earliest 29. Logan was special, though; he had started college at the age of 9, gone to medical school at the age of 13, and continued on to eventually earn his license in neurosurgery.</p><p>It was a usual occurrence for someone to ask, “Sanders spelled like Bernie Sanders?” Logan didn’t mind being compared to Bernie Sanders, although he preferred Elizabeth Warren’s more calculated approach to running the country. While Sanders had many goals he wanted to reach, Warren had plans to actually get what she wanted. Not only that, but a woman president was something Logan wanted to happen very soon. It would be interesting to see how a woman would handle certain situations as opposed to a man. Of course, with the presidential election almost over and Biden being the candidate for the Democrats, neither of the two Logan would prefer was in the running and he would have to settle for Biden. In the current moment, though, he was not thinking about politics but rather what tie he was going to wear to work.</p><p>The only spectrum of color Logan bought his ties in was blue, but that spectrum was wide. From the palest blue to the darkest indigo, he had all of them. Usually, on days when the weather was good he’d choose a darker blue and on more somber ones it would be lighter colored. This way, he would balance out the other hues of the world around him. It was also something that he felt he had complete control over; that was something he valued very deeply.</p><p>He was standing in front of a mirror, a tie in each hand. The weather was confusing today, which made his choice all the more difficult. Humming quietly in thought, Logan decided on the indigo one and quickly arranged it on himself. Then he turned and inspected the room. He always liked leaving for work with a clean space, so when he returned home he could relax without having to worry about clutter. His personal bedroom was the only room that ever got any bit untidy, as it was where he spent most of his spare time. Being a neurosurgeon, he had 40-hour weeks usually, so he didn’t have all that much time to spend on other interests. But there were a few hobbies he did like to work on. Astronomy, coding- they both intrigued him. Logan’s most time-consuming project, though, was connected directly to his job; studying whether a brain transplant could be successful. It was only a side project, though, even if his wonderings about it were what had inspired him to become a neurosurgeon.</p><p>The bedroom was almost completely spotless. The twin bed in the corner was already made, the clothes hanging in his closet were organized, and the only thing on his desk- other than a few knick-knacks- were a few sheets of paper. They had drawings of what Logan thought of upon waking. Sometimes it was simply colors, other times just shapes, but often it was some kind of animal or a person. He wasn’t an especially talented artist, and he found himself critiquing his work rather harshly, but he wasn’t too bad. Drawing helped him wake up and focus for the day. As it had been a habit for quite some time, he kept all the drawings in a box underneath his desk. Pulling it out, Logan placed the box on his desk and delicately lifted the lid off, placing the pictures inside gently. Then he put it back and made his way into the living room.</p><p>The living room was connected directly to the kitchen, and neither had much in them. There was a couch and table, and multiple bookshelves filled with books lined the walls. Most were scientific books, but others were classics of literature and even a few were new YA novels. It was important to Logan to further understand people of the current day. They were all very different from him for a few big reasons. Books were filled with knowledge; knowledge was necessary if Logan wanted to learn things. One of the things he found most fascinating were romance novels. He didn’t have any connection to the feeling of love, so it was interesting to read about people who felt it so strongly. <em>What would it be like to fall in love?</em> It was a question- along with many others of the same nature- that constantly nagged at him. If his experiments proved successful, he would know someday. Otherwise there was no hope.</p><p>Going into the kitchen, Logan grabbed an apple and napkin. Sitting down at the living room table, he began to eat it at a reasonable pace. The entire apartment was silent with the exception of his chewing and the refrigerator humming. His thoughts were idly marveling at how deep of a red the apple was. Once he finished it, he stood up, threw the core into the trash can, and made his way outside with his wallet and phone in his pocket.</p><p>As he lived in San Francisco, there was no need to own a car. The Muni Metro system worked perfectly fine, and the nearest stop was only a block away. If there were no interruptions in his trip to the hospital, he would arrive an hour early. It was 7 o’ clock in the morning; the sun had just risen in the sky and the city was cast in an orange glow. Logan wondered if most people would call it beautiful, seeing the dark shadows of the night retreating as the skyscrapers shone brightly, reflecting the sun’s rays everywhere with their glass windows. It just seemed the same as usual to him, the same as the day before, the week before, the month before, the year before. Arriving at the metro stop, he waited silently for his ride to show up. If it was on schedule, it should be there in the next five minutes. There was not a single person on the streets currently, and like in his apartment it was very quiet. Only the faint sounds of traffic and construction work could be heard. Logan liked it that way; it allowed him to think more clearly.</p><p>When the cable car slowed to a halt and the door opened, Logan went up the steps and into the vehicle. It was one of the older ones, with leather seats instead of plastic. After using his pass to pay for the trip, he sat down in one of the front rows and looked out the window. Not being on social media and having already checked up on the news earlier that morning, he didn’t have any reason to pull out his phone and start using it. He often wondered what everyone else could possibly being doing on it; he only used it for communication, news updates, and Duolingo- he’d been learning Latin since the beginning of high school, at age 7, and was quite fluent in it. His mother had recently recommended he try learning Greek, but he wasn’t sure if he had the time to delve into a third language.</p><p>It only took about ten minutes to reach the hospital where he worked. Logan got off the cable car and with a brisk pace set out towards the building. It was only a short distance away, and he soon spotted the two glass front doors. He was ready for another day of work and entered the hospital without a single worry about what could possibly happen.</p><p>The inside was very sleek and white. The walls stretched up high, the ceiling a good forty feet up. The front desk was directly in front of the double doors. As it was quite early in the morning, there weren’t many people around. There was a woman sitting at the front desk, her black hair tied up in a bun. Her skin was pale and ghostly, covered up mostly by a long-sleeved black dress. There was dark blue eyeshadow above her eyes, accentuating their pale blue color. Logan knew the woman as Mable Schuler- she’d had the front desk job for the past twenty years, apparently. He appreciated her more than anyone else in the workplace, as she was never distracted and got things done professionally. In fact, he had never seen her talking to another employee or doctor unless it was for business purposes. It was admirable to see someone so dedicated to their work, especially work that he knew was probably quite boring to the average person. Other than her, there were only a few people going back and forth across the lobby to their different offices. He nodded to her as he passed by, and she nodded back. They had a mutual respect for one another.</p><p>Logan’s office wasn’t that far from the entrance. He soon found himself opening the door and shutting it behind him, sitting down in his computer chair. There was some data he needed to go over for one of the most recent cancer patients- they had a tumor in their brain, and his opinion on whether it should surgically removed had been asked for. Turning on the computer and opening some files, he looked over the MRI scans and was about to write down his first note when the speaker overhead started making noise. Mable Schuler was talking into it.</p><p>“I regret to inform everyone in the building that the police have just called,” she spoke in a monotone voice. “A large group of armed terrorists are heading towards the hospital. The police have ordered an entire building shutdown until it is proven that we are completely safe and the threat has been put down. Please remain calm until further information has been provided.” With that, the speaker went quiet again. <em>Terrorists?</em> That was quite strange. What could terrorists possibly want to do with a hospital? Logan decided against trying to decipher their intentions and instead went back to his work. It would probably blow over quickly and everyone would forget about it. He continued diagnosing the solution to his patient’s problem, writing down his thoughts and conclusions about the scans. It was obviously best to use chemotherapy for this particular case- the tumor was in the cerebellum of their brain, and he was sure they would like to speak and have voluntary movements.</p><p>As he was about to finish up with the diagnosis, his office door creaked open. The person peeking into the small room was one of the residency trainees, Kyle Hartman. He was 28, two years into his training, and also a good four years older than Logan. Of course, age did not mean superiority in this dynamic. Kyle had short ginger-blonde hair, with bangs that hung a bit over his sharp green eyes. He was wearing black pants and a bright green shirt, with a red tie. <em>What a Christmas-themed outfit.</em> The man cleared his throat and waved a hand. “Uh, hey Lo- uh, Sanders. So, I was wondering if you got wind of the announcement? Because everybody is kinda panicking and running around the hospital preparing for the apocalypse, but you didn’t even come out of here.”</p><p>“Of course not,” Logan glanced over at him. “There is no reason for concern at the moment. Schuler asked us to stay composed until further information could be provided by the authorities. I see no need to work up a ruckus unless we officially become targets of the terrorists, which I highly doubt will happen. There are no current political discussions concerning hospitals and healthcare at the moment, so it could not be a protest of some kind. Unless they are led by someone who is mentally disturbed, there is no other logical motive.”</p><p>“Wow,” Kyle chuckled nervously. “You, um, have a good point there.” He didn’t say anything else for a moment, instead rubbing his arm absentmindedly. Then he took in a deep breath and said in a rush, “But what if they <em>are</em> led by somebody mentally disturbed? I mean, that would be even worse, right? What if they invade the building and start shooting people? They’re terrorists- that’s what terrorists do, right?”</p><p><em>Would they enter the building and do that?</em> If their intentions <em>were</em> to go after the hospital, they would have no reason <em>not</em> to. Everything rested on what their motives were. Logan turned his chair to face Kyle. He would allow this conversation to go on for a little longer before returning to work; he’d been told it was apparently rude to cut off a conversation suddenly. “Unfortunately, there is no way of knowing what may happen at the time being. There is no use worrying over things we cannot control. I suggest you return to your work to distract yourself while keeping your ears open for another announcement. I doubt you will have to wait long, as it won’t take long for the terrorists to drive past the hospital or stop by.” Hopefully, this would reassure his coworker enough so that he would leave. <em>I need to return to my diagnosis.</em></p><p>Luckily, this seemed to latch itself in his coworker’s mind. Kyle nodded, “Thanks, Logan. You’re really smart, you know? I’ll, um, leave you to it then.” Without another word, he ducked out of the office and quietly shut the door behind him. Logan turned back to his computer, his focus immediately shifting back to the scans. The terrorists did not have any importance for the time being. Once he had finished looking over the scans, he made a note to speak with the head oncologist about the patient’s condition as soon as they arrived at the hospital. <em>Hopefully, they won’t be kept away from the hospital because of the terrorists.</em> This whole business with the hostiles was certainly a nuisance. Kyle had said everyone was panicking- panicking in a hospital was not something you wanted. People could be injured if surgeons weren’t calm during surgeries. Perhaps this was one of the few times it really helped for Logan to be the way he was. He had never actually felt stressed or worried in his entire life. Well, not that he could remember.</p><p>As he was technically not supposed to be working for another half an hour, Logan took a book that was sitting beside his keyboard and opened it up. Yes, he had come to work only to start reading a book, but he found it more preferable to have leisure time without the risk of being late for work. It was a book on the brain, of course; he needed more knowledge on the subject than consumption of literature at the moment. Scientific books intrigued him more anyways for the most part. Although, he had been thinking about maybe getting an astronomy book instead, even if that field of science was just a side hobby. He was currently reading about studies being conducted on how AI could possibly replicate the human brain someday. It was quite fascinating. AI development was advancing more rapidly with each passing year, and Logan was starting to think they might achieve it in the near future.</p><p>About seven minutes into the next chapter, Mable’s voice started speaking through the overhead speaker again. “I have an emergency announcement to make. The police have just called and have informed me that the terrorists have surrounded the hospital. The police are trying their best to de-escalate the situation to make sure we are safe, but their measures so far have not worked. Until the terrorists have been arrested and the outdoors is safe, no one is to leave or enter this building. Stay away from windows and most importantly, stay safe. We are in emergency lockdown. Head doctors and surgeons, gather in the Cardiology ward to discuss further action immediately.”</p><p><em>Well then,</em> Logan slowly shut his book. <em>I guess this is a time for panic.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And so Logan meets Jay Harper, and they go searching for their favorite anxiety-ridden friend, Kyle</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Without a second thought, Logan left his office and went into the hallway. As he had expected, there were people running back and forth, carrying papers and files. <em>Of course, some of the offices have windows.</em> His own ward, Neurology, was on the side of the building. Lucky for him, his office wasn’t. It would’ve been quite the pain to move his things only to have to put them back later that same day. Not to mention that would make him quite late for the meeting. <em>I don’t know what exactly there is to discuss. All we have to do is stay away from windows and not go outside- other than that, we should continue on working like always.</em> But it wasn’t his place to question what Mable had said, so he took a left and started heading towards the Cardiology ward.</p><p>Quickly speeding through the white halls, Logan passed under the sign that said <strong>CARDIOLOGY</strong> after about seven minutes. Hopefully, he would get there before they started talking. Out of nowhere, Kyle appeared by his side. “Sanders! You’re going to the meeting right? Oh God, I can’t believe this is actually happening!” He was nervously fiddling with his fingers, his eyes darting around. “What if they break in and shoot us? We could all- all of us could-” He stopped walking, and Logan only just remembered to halt and glance back at him. <em>It’s rude to keep walking when someone is talking to you.</em> His coworker was taking in heavy breaths, trying to choke out words to no avail. Something about it seemed… wrong? <em>What am I missing? Isn’t this something bad?</em> Logan didn’t know, but he <em>did</em> know he should be doing something. <em>What should I do?</em></p><p>“Hey!” a nearby nurse walked over to Kyle. She had long blonde hair and pale aqua eyes that quickly scanned him. “Hartman, I need you to breathe with me.” She took his hands in her own and squeezed them. “One, two, three, four. Hold for seven seconds.” Kyle sucked in air for three seconds and only held for four. The nurse looked him in the eye, “Good, let’s try again. When you’ve held for seven seconds, make sure to breathe out nice and slow for eight. There you go, that’s it. Take your time, <em>breathe</em>.”</p><p><em>Is… Hartman having a panic attack?</em> Was that what was going on? Was that what had seemed wrong? Logan stared at the pair, completely silent. <em>Of course I didn’t notice.</em> These were the things that he missed day after day after day. The queues that pointed out when somebody was feeling something, for good or for bad. It just didn’t make any sense to him, and it was one of the only things that he felt a little bothered by. <em>What would it be like to…?</em> He didn’t even finish that thought- he didn’t need to. He’d thought it a hundred, a thousand, a million, a <em>billion</em> times. It was a question that was not going to be answered for a very long time.</p><p>When Kyle had finally managed to breathe normally again, the nurse looked over at Logan. Her name tag read <em>Anna Tracy</em>. “You must be Dr. Sanders. If you don’t mind me saying, sir, maybe you should take a few classes about observing your patients’ behaviors to discern what may be ailing them. It may help your, um, condition.” She looked away when she spoke the last sentence, as if ashamed to be saying something about it. <em>How would she know about that?</em> Logan didn’t think they’d ever met before. <em>Perhaps word simply got around.</em> He wasn’t mad about it, of course. He simply nodded, “Thank you, I’ll consider it. If you would excuse me, I must get to the meeting, and I have already been delayed as it is.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Kyle muttered, his gaze going to the floor. Logan didn’t respond to him, instead turning around and continuing on his way. That whole interaction had been what most people would call a nightmare, although he just found it to be a mild interruption. <em>Perhaps I should look into classes on that…</em> It did sound useful- he was always on the lookout for opportunities to learn more about that… <em>area</em> of expertise. Of course, he didn’t know if there were classes for such a thing. Classes on social awareness? That didn’t seem likely, but it was worth looking into.</p><p>Upon entering the main room with most of the Cardiology patients, Logan saw that all the other head doctors were already there. It looked as if they had waited for him, though. He reached them and straightened his tie. “Thank you for waiting. I assume everyone is up to date on the situation as we’re all here, correct?”</p><p>The others nodded. A short woman with dark blue hair tied in a ponytail- her name was Dr. Rianna Wilson, from the Gynecology ward- cleared her throat. “So, the protocol for a hospital lockdown is simple. We have different doctors and assistants staying with patients at all times, making sure nobody is in danger of heart attacks or unprecedented emergencies. We’ve been told to stay away from all windows and stay in the more inward wards. Neurology has been moved into Cardiology and intensive care into Gynecology for the time being. Make sure that your most at risk patients are taken well care of, and until we’re given the all-clear about these terrorists, they are our top priority. We aren’t supposed to be doing paperwork right now.”</p><p>All of them murmured in agreement. It seemed like a good enough plan. Logan straightened his glasses, his green eyes snapping to Dr. Olivia Powers. She was the head doctor of the Cardiology ward. “Dr. Powers, is there any specific patient you would have me watch over? There are none in the Neurology department that require my services.” Everyone started breaking off into groups to discuss with each other the details. Olivia thought for a moment before pointing to the other side of the large room. “You can stay with Jay Harper. She’s at risk of a heart attack at any time, so make sure not to stress her out, alright? It could be the difference between life and death. I’ll get you three assistants to help out around here.”</p><p><em>That should be easy enough.</em> “Thank you; send them over when they arrive.” Logan began walking down the long aisle, leaving his coworkers behind. <em>So, my task is to make sure Jay Harper does not suffer from extreme stress, as her heart cannot handle such pressure. I just need to keep her calm until this whole situation blows over.</em> Although, now that he thought about it… was he really the best person for this assignment? With his condition, he didn’t think he would notice if she started to panic- the incident with Kyle had shown that quite clearly. <em>I must be more observant of her behavior, or else I </em>will<em> fail.</em> That was certainly not something he wanted to happen. Everyone who worked at the hospital would become even more hostile towards him for not being able to handle a single patient. They already didn’t like his calculated approach to things, or how young he was. Today was the day he proved himself capable of caring for someone else. <em>Even though that’s impossible.</em></p><p>On either side of him there were small areas walled off by aqua curtains, where patients stayed. Eventually, he reached the end of the line and pulled aside the curtain on his left. In the bed was a black woman with long braided dark brown hair. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow. There two silver rings on the pointer and ring fingers of her left hand. <em>If she stays asleep, this will be a lot easier than I thought.</em> There were two chairs beside the bed, and he sat in the one closer to the heart rate monitor. Unfortunately, the chair let out a squeak as he sat down and her eyes shot open. Jay spotted him and stared at him for a moment before frowning. “And who are you supposed to be?”</p><p>“I am Dr. Logan Sanders,” he explained. “I usually don’t handle Cardiology patients, as I am a neurosurgeon, but in this time of emergency I have been asked to watch over you until the hospital has been made secure.”</p><p>Jay’s face contorted in alarm. “Wait a second, what’s going on with the hospital? What do you mean by ‘secure’?” She shifted a little in the bed, sitting up against the backboard. <em>Oh dear, should I not have said that?</em> Telling her about the situation could potentially increase her risk of a heart attack. <em>But not informing her could make her develop confusion and panic. Knowledge is better than ignorance.</em> Logan leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together. “Unfortunately, the police have instructed us to remain in the building and away from windows due to the threat of armed terrorists camping outside. They are having to take extremely careful measures to get them to stand down. It’s only been about ten minutes since the order was issued. Until the terrorists are taken care of, the hospital is in emergency lockdown. But we shall be fine in here.”</p><p>She made a noise of compliance, and then they both went silent. He began wondering about all the possible outcomes of the day. Would the terrorists break in and start shooting people down? Would the police be able to calm them down? This was all very confusing. <em>I need more information.</em> The things he wanted to know, though, were out of his reach. The most important question would remain unanswered for a long time. <em>Why are they doing this?</em></p><p>After a few minutes, the curtain was pulled back. There was Kyle, smiling nervously like usual. “Um, hi Dr. Sanders! Hi Ms. Harper. I’m here to assist the both of you during the- uh- situation.” He fiddled with his fingers a little for a moment before clearing his throat. “Is there anything you need me to do, Dr. Sanders?”</p><p>“Get Ms-” Logan’s sentence halted as he desperately tried to remember the patient’s name. <em>Does this really have to happen right now?</em> He took in a deep breath and started over. “It would be helpful if you brought us some water. We don’t want to forget to take care of ourselves during this crisis, and dehydration is the last thing we need.” <em>I don’t want to worry Ms- er, the patient about my condition. I have to find out her name again without letting her notice.</em> Kyle nodded and ducked back out, leaving the two. The patient gave him a strange look. “Y’know, you don’t need to call me Ms, I’d prefer you just call me Jay. Not nobody calls me Ms.” She laughed and shook her head. Then she pointed to the table next to her. “Can you hand me that book? It’s the only thing that hasn’t kept me from dying of boredom here.” On the table was a hardcover book titled <em>Ship It</em>, by Britta Lundin. Logan handed it to Jay and she smiled at him, “Thanks, ‘Dr. Sanders’.”</p><p>Neither of them spoke for a long time. While Jay read her book, Logan let his thoughts wander. <em>How long will it be before the police get the terrorists to stand down?</em> It would most likely be half an hour to an hour, maybe more, before they made any progress. Today was certainly an interesting day. <em>If they had waited another day, I wouldn’t have been here to experience it.</em> Was that good or bad luck? He wouldn’t know until the day was done and the excitement was over. Maybe an event would occur that would forever change his life. Although, he would have preferred to get some research in early today. Logan felt like he was getting close to figuring out something in his studies, but there was no way to know for sure until he did some experiments.</p><p>Eventually, Jay looked up and frowned. “Shouldn’t that guy have come back by now?”</p><p><em>She’s right.</em> That was odd. Kyle usually was very quick about fetching things. How long had it been? Checking his watch, he realized twenty minutes had passed. <em>Either he got caught up in something or something happened to him- and I don’t have his number to call him. </em>He stood up, “I’ll go look for him. At a time like this, it’s better to know what your colleagues are doing and where they are than to not.” Then he hesitated. <em>I can’t leave Jay here alone, and most likely everyone else is busy with their own patients. Perhaps taking her would be the better option?</em> Logan looked down at Jay. “Do you think you would be able to accompany me? I think you’ll be safer coming with me than staying here.”</p><p>Jay seemed a little shocked, before it disappeared and was replaced with a grin. “I won’t turn down a chance to get out of this bed.” Carefully, she slid her legs out from beneath the blanket and stepped onto the floor. She was wearing the usual aqua hospital gown; it reached her mid-thighs. She glanced over at Logan. “Would it be possible for me to get my old clothes back?”</p><p>“No,” he turned to the exit. “You’re a patient; just because you’re going on an outing in the hospital doesn’t mean you may wear casual attire.” With that, he pulled the curtain aside and they went out into the aisle. The location of the kitchens eluded him when he called upon it, though. <em>I can’t deal with this right now.</em> Luckily, when he thought about it hard enough, he remembered the exact way. Turning, left, they began their journey towards the kitchens. <em>Hopefully, nothing worsens Jay’s condition.</em> It was a bargain that he was going to have to take. <em>I’ll be there to take care of her.</em></p><p>They headed off into the depths of the hospital. There was no longer anybody running around; it seems they’d settled down to take care of the patients. It was for the better; order was always better than chaos. The kitchens were probably a good seven minute walk from the Cardiology ward. <em>Hartman definitely should have been back by now.</em> What kind of delay had prevented him from returning? It could have been a great number of things, but it was useless to guess at the moment. Jay was walking close behind Logan, seeming much happy up and about than she was in her bed. <em>When was the last time she was walking around like this?</em> Hopefully, he wasn’t making a big mistake by taking her with him. He didn’t know too much about cardiovascular disease or how far along she was in the process of it. <em>Dr. Powers said she was at great risk of a heart attack. It’s too late now, though- Jay’s already with me.</em></p><p>The only sound was their footsteps echoing throughout the empty corridors- until Jay spoke, that is. She matched his pace and stayed by Logan’s side. “So, how far away are the kitchens? I haven’t been there myself; they always brought me my food.” Her eyes then narrowed at him, “You can’t have been here long- you’re too young. How old are you?”</p><p>“Twenty-four,” he replied nonchalantly. “Although, you’ll find I am much more able to handle situations than most that are older than me. I spent my residency training here, and I received my medical license a year ago.” As he expected, her expression changed from suspicion into one of shock. It wasn’t every day that you met somebody who’d gotten their medical license at the age of 23. Jay gave him a respectful nod. “Remind me not to question your judgment. Jesus, you must be some sort of genius!”</p><p>“No,” Logan stated simply. “I just wanted to know how the brain works, so I spent every spare moment of my time on learning. I’m only average in other fields of science and math, although I have been taking some time to learn more about Astronomy.”</p><p>They had almost reached the kitchens- the doors were just ahead. As they strode towards them, Jay crossed her arms. “Well, I’m just a singer, so I don’t know much about all that complicated stuff. I was about to go on tour, actually, when I found out I had cancer. It’s real fucking stupid how chance can really ruin your life. I’m just glad we caught it before I left.”</p><p>Logan put a hand on the steel bar to push open the door. “Yes, that was quite a good happenstance.” Then he opened the door, and they were both greeted with a surprising sight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The two of them discover something terrifying and prepare themselves.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the middle of the cafeteria were the remnants of two bodies. One of them was splayed across a table; an arm and a leg were both missing, jagged flesh leaking blood onto the wooden surface and the bone hanging out a bit. It was Dr. Olivia Powers. The other body was none other than Kyle- he was laying on the floor, his head about four feet away. His shoulders and the floor beneath him were stained scarlet. Chairs were strewn across the large room. The moment Logan and Jay saw all of this, Jay let out a strangled cry and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God,” she murmured, absolutely horrified, and took a couple steps back. Meanwhile, Logan strode past the kitchen door and made his way through the obstacle course. He stepped over a few pieces of furniture and bent over Kyle’s body. Kyle seemed completely fine, other than the fact that he no longer had a head. The marks around his neck suggested the head had been bashed off with a blunt weapon. When Logan reached down to feel the wound, Jay let out a noise of disgust. “You’re gonna <em>touch</em> that!? Leave it alone!” He stopped and instead moved over to where the head was. The cold, lifeless eyes of his former coworker stared at the ceiling, bleeding profusely. Kyle’s whole face was smashed in, and stuck inside his neck was a small, cone-shaped metal spike. Logan pulled it out and examined it more closely. <em>Most certainly from a mace… a large, steel mace.</em></p><p>What could have possibly caused this? He’d never seen anything like this before. Why were Olivia and Kyle killed, and in such a gruesome way, too? To his knowledge, they had never done anything to anger anyone to an extent that the person should want to do something like this. Personally, he didn’t think Kyle was possible of offending anyone on purpose; he was too much of a pushover. Of course, if Kyle had been in the kitchens to witness the murder of Olivia, he could’ve been killed just to be kept quiet. Who could have done this, though? The hospital was locked down; nobody could’ve gotten in unless they arrived early in the morning. The only reason they would arrive early is if they worked at the hospital. <em>It must have been one of the staff.</em> Although, it did seem strange that this should happen at the same time as the terrorist attack. <em>Is that a coincidence, or was it planned?</em> No, it couldn’t have been a coincidence. If there was a killer on the loose and somebody discovered bodies, everyone would flee. But if the killer wanted to keep them around, they needed to make sure they couldn’t leave. The terrorists stationed outside took care of that. <em>We’re stuck in here with a serial killer.</em></p><p>This changed everything. If there was a killer in the building, they had to warn everyone. They had to hide and defend themselves if needed. <em>There’s a whole group of sick people in the Cardiology ward- they would be easy pickings.</em> Logan and Jay needed to go back immediately. The murders of Kyle and Olivia had happened very recently, which meant the murderer couldn’t have gone far. <em>How long has it been since we left?</em> Logan pulled out his phone and checked the time, discovering that it had already been 15 minutes since they left the Cardiology ward. <em>We need to hurry.</em> He stood up and turned back to Jay. “We should get back- you shouldn’t be up and about for too long.” Telling her about the serial killer would only worsen her condition, so he opted for this instead.</p><p>Unfortunately, Jay wasn’t going to buy it. “You’re joking, right?” she glared at him. “After finding two dead bodies, you’re worried about <em>me</em>? They might not have taught you this where you’re from, but growing up I was taught a certain respect for the dead. We can’t just leave them like this!” She made her way over to him and poked his chest, a snarl on her face. “I can’t believe how calm you are about this. You aren’t even a little disturbed about any of it! It sickens me to think that you have that little care for any of us. I’m glad you’re not <em>my</em> doctor. So, I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna take these two back with us and put them in a couple of those beds, give them a proper place to rest.” When Logan opened his mouth to object, she slapped his hand. “We’re doing it whether you like it or not.”</p><p>“Jay,” he thought about his next words carefully. “I highly recommend we do not carry them back for a numerous number of reasons. First, too much of a workout will put strain on your heart, which may cause a heart attack. Second, in the case that we need to… <em>escape</em> a certain situation, two full-grown adult humans would slow us down. Third, if escape is unavailable, we would have to abandon them anyways to defend ourselves.”</p><p>For a moment, she stared at him in confusion. Then her eyes widened slightly. “Wait, you’re saying that you think whoever killed them is still in here? Why would they stay, it’s not like they-” She cut off her sentence, worry growing in her expression. “They can’t- the terrorists are outside. Oh God, what are we supposed to do?”</p><p>“Not panic,” Logan told her. “Be alert, be careful, and most of all, be safe. That is all we can do until the terrorists have been neutralized.”</p><p>The two went quiet- Jay stared at the floor while Logan went back deep into his thoughts. They needed a weapon to defend themselves with, but what could they possibly find in a hospital? All doctors had taken an oath to never do harm onto another human being, and there was no need for any weapons. A fire extinguisher might do, although Logan did not know where one could be located. <em>The kitchens, maybe?</em> Yes, that seemed a likely place. But to give damage to the killer with that would require getting up close, and if they <em>did</em> have a steel mace, that could be quite dangerous. <em>Perhaps something else would be better.</em> But what? A ranged weapon would be the most useful, but what could they <em>use</em>?</p><p>“Let’s look in the kitchens,” he said, already moving towards the door. Jay nodded, snapping out of her mourning and following close behind. They reached the door and he opened it wide, stepping through and into the large room.</p><p>The kitchens were quite big, and quite a mess too. There was a pot of soup boiling away and the smell of burning was coming from the oven. And upon seeing the head cook lying on the floor awkwardly with blood soaking through the back of her clothes, Logan guessed that the killer had come in here as well. <em>How many victims have they already taken?</em> He made his way over to the pot of soup and turned off the burner, moving the pot onto another one. Then he opened the oven and took out a pan of bread through the smoke that instantly filled the room. The bread was very, very black and Logan and Jay dissolved into fits of coughing. Luckily, the fire alarm didn’t go off. That was the last thing they needed; to make the entire building fall into panic. <em>There is probably one or two other dead people in here… it’s not important, though.</em> On a cutting board a little ways’ away were some vegetables ready to be chopped, a knife lying next to them. <em>I can take the knife, but I need something else.</em></p><p>Jay suddenly gasped, and she ran over to the vegetables. “I got a great idea. Y’know, one time I was cutting peppers and I got an itch in my eye. I rubbed it- worst choice I’ve ever made. Pepper juice hurts like <em>hell</em>. Which is exactly something we need, right? ‘Cause if we run into that murderer, we can splash some water and pepper juice in his face and stun him.” She frowned and looked around. “Do you know where a glass might be?”</p><p>Logan opened a cupboard above his head and grabbed a water glass from it, handing it to Jay. She turned on the sink and filled it most of the way with water. Then she cut the tip of one of the peppers with the knife and started squeezing it above the glass. Juice dripped into the water slowly. Logan frowned a little before joining her, knowing that they needed to get this done as quickly as possible. It was a good idea, but a risky one. They’d only have one chance to hit the killer if it came down to it. <em>I have the knife as backup if it is needed.</em></p><p>When three thick peppers had been entirely squeezed out and the cup was full, they made their way out of the kitchens. Jay’s eyes were constantly darting back and forth, and she kept rubbing the fingers of her right hand together. Logan didn’t ask her why, but he did wonder about it. <em>Maybe it’s an exercise her doctor gave her in order to help her heart?</em> He might have been a neurosurgeon, but even he knew that didn’t make sense. <em>It doesn’t matter- I need to stay focused.</em></p><p>They moved quickly through the white halls of the hospital. The Cardiology ward wasn’t far, and Logan was starting to think they might make it without running into any trouble. The building around them still remained eerily silent, like everyone was hiding away. <em>They might be, if they already know about the killer.</em> This was certainly not how Logan had expected this day to turn out. First the terrorists, then the murders, and now he and a patient with cancer were hurrying through the hospital to return to the others. Logan’s life had always been predictable in regards to his education and work, and the only times he’d ever experienced surprises or strange things was when he interacted with other people. People were very… spontaneous. They acted on feelings instead of logic and often ended up in trouble because of it. Whenever Logan acted logically, they always berated him about it. He was ‘too cold’, or ‘unsympathetic’, or ‘cruel’. He tried not to be, but it never went away entirely- it was something he just couldn’t help coming across as. So, people continued to think he didn’t care about anyone except himself.</p><p>Of course, they weren’t entirely wrong, but they weren’t right in the way they thought.</p><p>A crash came from the corner up ahead, and the two halted. Logan gripped the glass tightly, waiting for someone to appear. They heard some giggling before a metal cart came careening straight for them, someone wearing black and green riding on the back of it. Jay yanked Logan out of the way, making some water splash out of the cup but saving him from getting hit. The person skidded to a stop, and turned to face them, picking a metal mace up from the cart’s top. It was a man wearing a black jumpsuit with a green scarf tied around his neck, and a black mask hid his face. <em>So, this must be the killer then.</em> Logan leaned down to whisper into Jay’s ear, “I suggest you run while I hold him off.”</p><p>Jay let out a snort, “Like I’m going to just leave you behind to get killed. You may think it’s okay to do that, but it’s not. We can fight this guy together. Still got that knife?” He nodded, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it to her. She gripped it tightly. Meanwhile, the disguised man was heading towards them, twirling his mace in a wide arc carelessly. He let out a light laugh. “Ooh, just what I was looking for! You know, I was having so much fun with the others, but then I ran out of bodies to play around with. Too bad I don’t have enough time to pull some of Jeffrey Dahmer’s tricks- I’m on a time crunch! I think we’ll have a good amount of time together, though- we’ll make some great memories!”</p><p>Logan slyly put the glass down on the ground. He’d retrieve it in a bit, but he wasn’t going to get a clear enough shot at the moment and he didn’t want to spill it all trying not to get hit. Jay cried out and leapt forward, slashing the knife at the killer. The killer easily dodged and grabbed her arm. <em>CRACK!!</em> Jay screamed in agony as he broke her arm almost effortlessly, dropping the knife with a loud <em>clang!</em>. <em>That is definitely a bad break- I need to get Jay out of this situation or she’ll have a heart attack.</em> The man then smashed down on it with his mace. She crumpled onto her knees, her arm a misshapen, bloody mess. Logan rushed forward and grabbed the knife, slicing their enemy’s arm successfully. The killer hissed in pain and punched Logan straight in the nose, sending him stumbling backwards and into the wall. <em>Ouch,</em> Logan winced, slowly regaining his balance. But by the time he was back stably on his feet, the killer was already swinging his mace at his face. Pain erupted from Logan’s nose and cheeks as the weapon crossed them, a <em>snap!</em> echoing through his eardrums. Blood splattered onto the tile floor and the broken pieces of his glasses clattered a few feet away. <em>Huh, my eyes aren’t damaged from glass- that’s quite lucky.</em> Logan, who was still clutching the knife, cut at the hand of the killer’s that was holding the mace. Of course, what he was not expecting was empty air where the killer’s pinkie finger should have been, and he missed by an inch. The killer giggled joyously, “Weren’t expecting that, were you?”</p><p>Just then, Jay appeared behind him and kicked his knee. The killer folded forward and fell onto his hands and knees. Jay grabbed Logan’s wrist and started pulling him down the corridor. Logan, though, stopped to pick up the glass of pepper water. They might need it in the future in another fight. “Come on!” Jay yelped at him. He turned around to see the disguised man charging for them. Calculating his aim, Logan jerked the cup forward and splashed the solution into the killer’s face. The killer let out a startled cry before he started cursing and rubbing at his eyes. <em>That worked better than I thought it would.</em> Logan then took off running with Jay just behind him.</p><p>As they sprinted down the corridors, Jay glanced over at him. “What’s wrong with you? You have no instincts! You just let him hit you multiple times! Where did your reflexes go?!” Her voice was sharp and high-pitched, her eyes wild. How was he going to explain it to her? <em>We don’t have enough time for any of that.</em> He looked away from her and instead at the way ahead. “I’ll inform you later, as for the moment it doesn’t matter. We should focus on escaping that man instead of asking questions.”</p><p>“Uh, I think it might be kinda useful to know why my companion is the absolute worst at fighting!” she retorted. “Sure, you got one or two hits on him, but nothing that actually did anything to stop him! Besides the pepper water, but that doesn’t really count. If we get into another fight, I don’t want to have to be constantly looking out for you because you’re too slow!”</p><p>“It’s not something I can help.” He suddenly halted, faced with a left turn and a right turn. <em>Which way was it again?</em> The information to the kitchens had come back to him earlier after a little hard thinking, but the way back was impossible to remember. <em>We need to keep going, but if we go the wrong way we could get into more trouble.</em> Unfortunately, there weren’t any signs at this intersection that might inform them of their location. “Do you happen to remember the way we came from, Jay?”</p><p>She gave him another strange look. “Of course I do, but why don’t you? You’re the one who works here, and we went this way going to the cafeteria.” When she didn’t move, Logan realized she was waiting for an answer from him. He sighed, “Look, I promise I will tell you later, but we are in danger and we don’t have time to waste. Please, lead the way.” He looked behind them to make sure they were still in the clear. Jay rolled her eyes and took a left, and he followed just behind her.</p><p>It only took another five minutes to reach the Cardiology ward, and once again they were met with a devastating scene.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Logan and Jay share a moment together and decide what to do next.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything was a bloody mess. There were bodies everywhere, strewn across the floor and leaning against walls. There was a pile of multi-colored hair next to the entrance, and Logan kicked it out of the way. In a chair a few feet away was a nurse whose eyes had been scooped out from their sockets and laid in their open hands. As Logan and Jay slowly made their way down the aisle, he peaked into different rooms. One had a patient in it whose nose had been ripped off, and written on their forehead was the word ‘Voldemort’. <em>How could one man alone have done this much damage?</em> It was truly puzzling; yes, he had a mace, but a mob of people should’ve been able to take him out of commission. <em>Unless he’s had specialized training…</em> Of course, there was no way to know for certain, but that didn’t stop his wonderings.</p><p>Jay was silent the entire time. She had a hand on her mouth, her eyes wide. Every time she saw a body, she shivered. Logan wondered about what her feelings were. <em>Most people would feel horrified upon seeing this, right? Beings of their own race mutilated?</em> He’d never been told what people feel when others were murdered, only that it was a very bad thing. <em>I need to keep Jay calm, but… I don’t know how.</em> This had all gone downhill extremely quickly. <em>Jay doesn’t like me because I haven’t shown any sign of remorse for these people. I don’t know how I could change her opinion of me.</em> Maybe he could try doing something he’d seen other people do. He put a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be alright. We’ll get through this.” The words sounded so foreign and strange coming from him, but it was necessary. <em>I can’t risk letting her have a heart attack- everyone else would hate me for it.</em></p><p>Surprisingly, she started sobbing. It began quietly, but soon tears were streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto her hands. Jay tried wiping at her eyes, but they kept coming. Logan tried desperately to remember something- <em>anything</em>- that people did to comfort others. After a few moments, he wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She softened and hugged him back, crying into his shirt. “We’re gonna die, aren’t we? Just like all these people.”</p><p>Unsure of how to respond, Logan was unresponsive for a heartbeat. If he said yes, it would increase her stress. If he said no, it would probably end up being a lie. Instead, he murmured, “I don’t know. But there’s no point in giving up when there is still a chance we can survive, and while there are others we can save. The people on the second and third floors are unaware of the situation down here; we need to warn them.” Although he would rather hide in the Cardiology ward where their chances of survival were much higher, Logan figured Jay would like him more for wanting to save others. And what he needed right now was for her to like him and, more importantly, to trust him.</p><p>After a minute or so, Logan pulled away from her, unable to continue hugging. It had been the first hug he had given… <em>ever</em>. His parents had hugged him many, many times over the years of his youth, but he himself had never hugged them. It felt weird. Hugging was a sign of affection, and he’d never felt that way towards anyone, let alone Jay. She was quite stubborn and uncooperative when he needed her to be. In a situation like this, they needed to work together, not argue. But all she seemed to want to do was question his behavior. Of course, that wasn’t anything new; that’s how everyone reacted to his startling cold and uncaring demeanor. But they didn’t have time for all that. Yes, Logan wasn’t at all disturbed by this horror fest, but that was a lot better than becoming so wracked with grief that he couldn’t continue on. In fact, his nonchalant manner was quite useful. He would be able to assess different situations calmly and make rational decisions. <em>She can do the fighting, I can do the planning.</em> “I think I have Dr. Wilson’s phone number, I’ll try calling her.” Logan pulled out his phone and pressed the home button, only to find that it wouldn’t turn on. <em>I must have forgotten to charge it last night… again.</em> When Jay gave him an unimpressed look, he slipped it back into his pocket and shrugged. “Not everyone is as good at remembering things as others.”</p><p>“I don’t get that,” she crossed her arms. “You said you’re twenty-four, which means you went to college pretty young, which means you’re really smart. So, how come you forgot something as simple as the way here and to charge your phone before coming to work? You’d think such a well put-together guy like you would remember those kinds of things. You told me that you’d tell me what the fuck is up with you later. Well, guess what? It’s later now, and I want to know.”</p><p>This… was tricky. In any other circumstance, Logan would be absolutely fine and willing to tell her all about it. But explaining it all might lead to Jay having a more negative outlook towards him, and that was not needed. If Jay was going to survive this, Logan needed to be there with her. So, although it might seem better to part ways for her, in the end it would only harm her wellbeing. <em>What should I tell her?</em> After a moment or two, he managed to lock his gaze with hers. Making direct eye contact was usually something he had a very hard time doing, and now was not an exception. He struggled to maintain it, but he knew that to convince her, it was necessary. “It’s complicated, and I don’t feel completely comfortable sharing it.” <em>Lies.</em> “But I’ll tell you this; I can’t feel fear, which means I don’t have a fight or flight reflex. That is why I’m slow in a stressful situation- my senses don’t become heightened like everyone else’s. Yes, it is a slight detriment in situations like the one we just faced, but it makes me quite useful when trying to stay calm. Because I am <em>always</em> calm.”</p><p>Jay stared back into his eyes for a long moment before raising an eyebrow. “Wow, that’s not what I was expecting, but alright. If you don’t want to tell me the details, you don’t have to. I mean, I don’t really like talking about my cancer either, so I don’t have any room to complain. So, Mister I’m-Always-Calm, should we head for the elevators or the stairs?”</p><p>“No,” he frowned, reaching for her arm. “First, I need to make sure your arm is alright. Well, that it will be alright for a little while.” When he touched it, Jay flinched harshly and winced. It was hanging at an awkward angle, most certainly broken. <em>It looks like a very bad break.</em> Although Logan wasn’t an Orthopedist, when an arm or leg was pointing the wrong direction he could tell pretty easily there was something wrong. Not only was the arm broken, though, but there was a huge gash on it that was still bleeding profusely. He ripped two pieces of cloth off the nearest curtain and wrapped one around the wound gently but tightly, Jay letting out whimpers of pain all the while. Then he made a sling out of the other cloth piece and put her arm in it. “There,” he said once he was finished. “But you need care right now, or you will lose too much blood. We need to go to the emergency care ward before heading upstairs.” When Jay opened her mouth to object, Logan shook his head and continued. “The others can wait. My first priority is keeping you safe and healthy until the terrorists leave the premises. There’s also a flight of stairs to the second floor right next to the emergency care ward, so as soon as I’ve given you more professional treatment we can head up. Come on, we don’t have that much time.” So, he began to head towards the Cardiology ward exit to begin, once again, the journey across the hospital.</p><p>The two of them took a more stealthy approach this time around. Instead of sprinting through the hallways, they made sure to look around every corner before continuing onward. Who knew where the killer could be? They were going to have to be extremely careful about how they went along. It wasn’t going to be easy, but nobody said it was going to be in the first place. <em>I hope we’re going the right way.</em> With Logan’s spotty memory, there was no way to know if he actually knew the way or if he was wrong. <em>If we can find my office, I’ll remember where to go. But that itself will be hard…</em></p><p>It all became quickly confusing. Everything looked the same, and Logan’s memories were either gone or muddled together. Luckily, he hadn’t forgotten Jay’s name- he would be calling her by her last name if he could remember it. Although, as unprofessional as it was, his mother had told him it made people more comfortable if they were on a first-name basis. As a child, Logan had only ever called other kids by their last names and it had only made them even more distant. Perhaps calling her Jay was better, even if she was the patient and he was the doctor. Of course, if he went too long without thinking about her name, it would surely slip his mind. “Jay,” Logan said quietly, glancing over at her. “Keep an eye out for a map of the building. There should be one around here somewhere.”</p><p>“You mean the one right there?” she pointed to the wall on their left, about fifty feet away. Indeed; it was the exact map Logan had meant. They quickly made their way over to it and Logan studied it thoroughly. Usually, his memory was actually quite excellent and the blips in it only happened once or twice a day, but since he was taking in so much new information, it must have been overwhelming his senses. So, on a regular basis, memorizing this map would not be hard in the slightest. <em>If we’re next to Dr. Lundberg’s office, then that means we’re just a left and a right away from the front desk.</em> <em>If we go through the lobby, we’ll get to emergency care in just five minutes.</em> That, though, would be quite dangerous; the front glass doors were absolutely going to be covered by the terrorists, and if they went through it they risked get shot at. <em>But we don’t have enough time otherwise.</em> Jay needed medical attention immediately, and the longer she waited the more likely she’d lose her arm for good. “We’ll have to head through the lobby. Do you think you’ll be able to dodge bullets?”</p><p>Jay blinked and took a moment to process this request. “Uh, I guess? I mean, couldn’t we take the long way ‘round instead? I don’t think there’d be much of a difference.”</p><p>“The less territory we cover, the better. Would you rather run into the killer if we went through the Neurology ward? We have a better chance at survival if we go through the lobby.”</p><p>Both of them stared at each other for a long moment. She then sighed and nodded. “Alright, if you think that’s the best way to go. But if I get shot and die, it’s your fault and I’m blaming you.” There was a grin on her face, but her words conflicted with it. <em>She just threatened me, but she seems happy? If someone threatens someone else, wouldn’t they have to be angry to do that in the first place? Is she actually happy? I thought she was upset about all the deaths.</em> Giving up on understanding emotions, Logan simply turned around and kept walking. Jay jogged up beside him and frowned. “You understand I was joking, right? I can’t blame you if I’m dead. Aw man, are you one of those people who don’t get jokes? Today’s gonna be hella boring.”</p><p><em>Oh, joking.</em> Joking and metaphors, even after all this time, were two things he struggled with. He’d always been mocked for being too serious, but he couldn’t help it. What if someone <em>really</em> meant what they were saying? For instance, ‘straight from the horse’s mouth’. That was terrible metaphor, as what if they meant they wanted to hear the truth from a real horse? Horses had never been able to speak any language humans did, so there was no way to be able to find out valuable information from them. Whoever had thought that metaphor up was idiotic, as truth and horses had no special ties to one another. Meanwhile, jokes usually twisted words and their meanings, making it all too confusing to someone who already had a hard enough time seeing peoples’ intentions behind their dialogue. “I understood perfectly well,” Logan lied. “I just don’t see the merit of throwing blame onto people who don’t deserve it.”</p><p>“Geez,” Jay rolled her eyes. “Who could’ve possibly known you were going to be the straight man out of the two of us?”</p><p>“No one, actually,” Logan said. “Although you might think upon first glance that I would be a straight cis male, my parents believe I would’ve become very adamantly gay if there hadn’t been interventions. I’m asexual for the time being.”</p><p>It took a moment for Jay to speak again. “I’m not sure if you’re joking or if you’re being completely serious right now.”</p><p>“I’m always serious.”</p><p>“Well then,” she halted and held out a hand. “Let’s reintroduce ourselves. I’m Jay Harper, a nonbinary person who goes by both he/him and she/her. I’m also heterosexual panromantic. What about you?” For a moment, Logan didn’t know how to respond. Then he realized she was waiting for him to shake her hand, so he reached out and took it. “I’m Dr. Logan Sanders, a cisgender male who goes by he/him pronouns. I’m asexual.” <em>Well, at least I know her last name now. Would she find it weird if I called her Ms. Harper now that I’ve been calling her Jay this entire time? She said something about being called Ms earlier, but I can’t remember what it was…</em></p><p>Logan stopped and ducked behind the corner ahead. Jay followed suite and peeked around him. “We’re here?” When he nodded, her eyes narrowed. “What’s that on the wall behind the desk? It looks like-” she cut herself off, a hand covering her mouth. “Oh my God, who is that? Did you know her? God, what if she’s still alive?”</p><p>Hanging on the wall behind the front desk, her arms stretched wide and the rest of her body suspended limply, was Ms. Mable Schuler. Her black dress was ripped slightly against her right thigh, and her hair was messily draped over her face. The palms of her hands were nailed into the wall, and blood dribbled down the wall and dripped onto the floor. Her abdomen was exposed, as the fabric and flesh around her stomach had been torn away to reveal her intestines. “I doubt she’s alive,” Logan murmured. Such wounds would have had to be treated immediately, but obviously this had occurred some time ago. <em>Is the killer religious? It seems he has crucified her like Christians believe a man called Jesus was.</em> He moved his gaze to the front doors. Outside, he could clearly see the terrorists stationed with weapons pointed in at the lobby. “We’ll have to move quickly,” he told Jay. “Do not stop for anything. Follow my lead and avoid getting shot- that is the last thing we need right now. They’re too far away to aim well, but you still need to be careful and not walk straight into a bullet.”</p><p>With that, he took off running. He forced himself to only think about running, keeping his eyes on the path to the opposite side of the lobby. The door to emergency care was <em>right there</em>- all they needed to do was reach it. Almost instantly the glass doors were shattered by bullets, gun shots ringing in their ears. Bullets whizzed past them, and as Logan dived behind the front desk he felt one graze his left calf. <em>Ouch!</em> It stung badly, but it hadn’t gone too deep. Jay was beside him, pulling him back onto his feet. “Come on, go, go, go!” They were running again, their footsteps silent in the noise of guns firing. The door was there, Logan reached for the doorknob-</p><p>Pushing it open, he pulled Jay in after him and shut the door behind them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Flashback!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A long time before Logan ever moved away from Gainesville to go to college in San Francisco, before he underwent the surgery that would forever change his life, he was a very emotional toddler of the age of 4. Out of the preschool class, he was the four-year-old thinker who got self-righteous and angry easily. The other children liked his boldness- or, his parents told him that his teachers noticed they did- but since he was only four, he didn’t really have any close friends yet. He preferred to read by himself, as books were new and all the rage in the preschool class- everyone had just learned to read. On the Saturday that everything changed, Logan was reading a Bob Book in the living room with his mother.</p><p>They were sitting on the couch together, his mother holding the book while he sat on her lap. He was wearing a rainbow shirt and black pants, his sharp green eyes peering out from behind his black bangs to read the thick pages. His mother was wearing a pale blue dress with black heels, her long black hair straightened unlike usual and dark red lipstick coating her lips. All in all, Logan thought his mother was very pretty today, and he did not question why she had made herself up like this. When they had reached the second to last page of the book, Logan’s father emerged from the hallway. He was wearing black pants and a dark blue shirt. “Ready to go, honey?” he asked his wife, bending down to Logan’s eye level. “Hey, Logan, we’re gonna go back to the hospital. When we leave, things are going to be a little different, but you’ll be all better. No more of those scary, serious people, and especially no more of that scary man with the yellow eye. Does that sound like a good idea?”</p><p>“Promise?” Logan asked. He’d seen that man with the yellow eye so much lately, and he always talked with big words Logan couldn’t understand- like ‘craniotomy’, ‘chemotherapy’, and ‘tumor’. Whenever he asked what they meant, his mother always told him that he’d know when he was older. His father nodded and took his small hand. “I promise. When we leave, we’ll get some ice cream, okay? To celebrate, and because you deserve a reward for your patience in all this.”</p><p>“What does ‘patience’ mean?” That word was unknown to Logan. Even though he had progressed in his reading much, much faster than everyone else in his class, there were many words that remained mysterious to him. He wanted to know every single one. Of course, he wanted to know everything about <em>everything</em>- he could always feel this gnawing instinct that made him want to <em>learn</em>. To experience, to live, to find out everything he could about the world around him. It was such a big place, and it was so, so amazing. Every new thing was a wonder to him, and he wanted to know what it all meant. His father thought for a moment before responding, “When you are patient, or you have patience, it means you can calmly and/or willingly wait for something. You have had a lot of patience with going to the hospital so much. Does that make sense?” When Logan nodded, he picked the boy up and headed over to the front door, his wife following close behind. “Alright then, let’s go.”</p><p>The drive there was long, like always. Or, it <em>felt</em> long. Everything seemed to take its time when they were going to the hospital. They went there so often, though, that it was starting to become this void of time that lasted forever during it but afterwards Logan thought it had been so short a time. This was the period of time when he would play with his stuffed unicorn. Its name was Blue, as it was a fluffy pale blue unicorn with a pink horn and big, round pink eyes. Usually, he would discuss the books he had been reading with Blue- like how compelling it was to find out that Jackie had apparently been teaching a dog that had randomly appeared how to roll over this <em>entire time</em>- or about what had happened at school. Blue had a funny voice that for some reason came from the front of the car instead of from its own mouth, but Logan didn’t question it too much. For now, though, he was very curious about why this was to be their last visit to the hospital, so he leaned forward as far as he could against the seatbelt to speak with his parents. “Why aren’t we coming back after this?”</p><p>His mother looked over her shoulder at him. “Because people who aren’t sick don’t need to go to the hospital, honey, and you’re going to be all better after today. You won’t have to stay there for weeks at a time anymore- won’t that be nice?”</p><p>That <em>would</em> be very nice. Whenever Logan was away from his parents, he missed them dearly. They were so nice and he loved them very, very much, more than anything else in the world. More than Blue, more than learning. They were everything to him. “Mhm!” he agreed. The hospital was a scary place where he’d had to stay for weeks on end multiple times, needles stabbed into his arms too many times to count. There were always strange people wearing white or black walking in and out of the room he stayed in, asking if he needed anything. Not only that, but the way they looked at him was… strange. Nobody else looked at him the way they did. Of course, then there was the man with the yellow eye. His right eye was a normal brown, but the other was bright yellow. He usually wore black with a yellow tie and when he said his ‘s’es, he drew them out like he was hissing. The man also seemed extremely interested in Logan, asking about his daily life. Logan didn’t want to tell him anything but was usually coaxed into doing so by his mother. He didn’t want to tell the yellow-eyed man about the books he was reading, or the pictures he was drawing, or the friends he was making- which, of course, there were none. This man had no business in prying into his life, and Logan did not want him to.</p><p>They arrived at the hospital and the void of time ended. Logan’s father picked him up and the three of them started heading towards the stupendously large building. It was very impressive in Logan’s opinion, although everyone refused to let him up on the roof. He wanted to go up there so he could see the surrounding area like a bird. Maybe he climbed high enough he would be able to fly like one? Was that how birds worked? “Momma, how do birds fly?” His mother would know the answer- she always did. She looked over and smiled at him. “They have wings, honey. They flap them and that causes them to fly up into the sky. Why do you want to know?”</p><p>“If I had wings, could I fly?” he asked. It was a genuine question, but his mother laughed a little. “Yes, but you’d have to grow a pair first. Humans don’t grow wings though, so I think you’re out of luck.”</p><p>That was unfortunate. To be able to see the world from above- that would truly be something great to witness. If he could fly, he’d take Blue up there with him- his parents, too. They would all get to see things nobody else had before. His mother must’ve seen the disappointed look on his face, for she took his small hand and said, “Don’t worry, though! You don’t need wings- you’ll probably get to fly on an airplane someday. Do you know what an airplane is?” When he shook his head, she continued. “It’s like our car except a lot bigger, and it can fly. It has wings, but they don’t flap like a birds’ does. Does that make sense?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Logan responded. So, maybe people <em>had</em> seen that kind of view before. They went through the front doors of the hospital, but he was still thinking about flying. What would it be like to be so high up? Would it be scary? <em>Scary as that man?</em> No; nothing could be as the yellow-eyed man. Of course, that was who they approached in the next few moments. He was standing next to the front desk, signing some papers. Looking up, he flashed them a smirk. “Ah, you’ve finally showed up. I trust Logan has been doing well?”</p><p>“Yes,” Logan’s father said. “So, are we going to have to wait a little while before the surgery starts or do you start immediately?”</p><p>“No, you’re just here so you can waste your time sitting in a lobby.” After a moment of silence, the yellow-eyed man rolled his eyes. “I was being sarcastic, we start immediately. I don’t have time to chit-chat, so let’s head over to the operating room and get our wonderful Logan all ready before I get fired for engaging in polite conversation.” On that note, he turned on his heels and started strutting down the hallway that Logan knew all too well. His parents followed the man quickly, and after only a minute or two the man turned to open a closed door on the left. He stepped aside, holding the door for them. “After you,” he gestured grandly to the entryway with his hand. Logan got a clear glimpse of the man’s plastic yellow gloves. His mother had told him that the people here wore the gloves to prevent making others sick, but on the yellow-eyed man it felt different. He didn’t know why, but it just made him all the more scarier. In fact, he’d never seen the man <em>without</em> the gloves. It was disturbing, to say the least.</p><p>His mother and father entered and set Logan down on the hospital bed, and the man sat on his spinning desk chair dramatically, his arms draped over the armrests. “Before we begin, I’m going to ask you one more time; are you sure you’re willing to deal with the consequences of this operation? After this, Logan will not have any emotions, any instinctive reflexes of his will disappear, and he will have no fear. No fear means he will not know dangerous people from safe people and he will think dangerous situations are completely safe. He will never know the meaning of love and his level of communication with other people will be severely damaged. You will have to raise his very, very carefully. As for his memory, you’re lucky that in college I developed a computer chip that can be connected to the brain to store day-to-day memories. Unfortunately, nothing is perfect, and at times he <em>will</em> very easily forget the simplest things. Someone’s name, where he left his car keys, the way to work- this cannot be fixed. Are you still sure you want to go through with the operation?”</p><p>The two other adults exchanged glances before Logan’s father sighed. “If it means our son will live… yes. He may not love us after this, but we’ll always love him. We’ll do anything to make sure he lives a long, fulfilling life.”</p><p>“Alright then,” the yellow-eyed man smiled a little. “Let’s begin, shall we?”</p><p>***</p><p>Two years later, when Logan was 6 years old and in 2<sup>nd</sup> grade, he was in the 2<sup>nd</sup> grade art class. He was sitting on a bean bag chair, holding the book up so it would block the bright ceiling light. From the angle he was sitting at, it made it look like the book was glowing at the edges. The book was about famous painters; each child had been assigned to read a separate copy of it and then draw a picture based off their favorite painting. It was a simple enough task and Logan knew he would do just fine with it. Glancing down the last page, he shut the book quietly and went over to the art table. Only one other child was already getting started on their picture, a box of crayons and markers beside them. As Logan pulled a piece of paper over to him, he noticed that the child was only using the markers- and that there were no other crayons in sight.</p><p><em>They aren’t using the crayons; I’ll use them instead.</em> Without saying a word, Logan took the box of crayons and was about to pull the dark blue one out when the kid suddenly screamed. He looked over at them and suddenly found that he was face-to-face with a spitting, growling child. “Those are my crayons! Give them back!”</p><p>“But you weren’t using them,” Logan frowned a little, slightly confused. “I will return them when I’m finished, but as you can see they’re my only option. As you simply had them next to you, I don’t think it’s any harm for me to use them for my picture.”</p><p>“They’re my crayons!” they yelled, their hands clenched into fists. “You can’t just take them! Ms. Lee, Logan’s stealing my crayons!” The teacher glanced over from across the room before jogging over. She looked back and forth between the two of them before giving Logan a stern look. “Logan, did you take Adeline’s crayons? You know taking things from others without asking is wrong. I expect better behavior from such a good student like you.”</p><p><em>Why am I in the wrong? What is going on?</em> Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Adeline was not using the crayons, only the markers. There were no other crayons on the table, so I didn’t think it necessary to ask her for them. I don’t understand what I could’ve done otherwise.”</p><p>Ms. Lee bent down next to Logan. “You should always ask someone before taking what might be theirs. When you ask them, you should say ‘please’ before your request. And if they say yes, then you should say ‘thank you’. It’s called being polite. When you wrong someone, you should tell them you are sorry. So, what are you going to say to Adeline for taking her crayons?” When she gave Logan a strange look, he wracked his brain for the solution. <em>What should I say? I didn’t do anything wrong.</em> After a minute of standing silently, Ms. Lee sighed and shook her head. “Logan, if you don’t apologize I’m going to have to call your parents. I won’t allow this behavior to continue any longer- I’ve seen you do this to other kids too. Apologize to Adeline.”</p><p>The other children were all watching now, whether it be ‘secretly’ or just plain staring. Logan was genuinely stupefied by this situation. Why should he have to apologize when he did nothing wrong? “I don’t understand. What do I have to apologize for? Adeline didn’t need the crayons and <em>I did</em>. It just doesn’t make any sense.” He didn’t mind that everyone was watching. Of course, he never minded anything. Nothing made him uncomfortable or nervous. Ms. Lee stood up and grabbed him by his wrist. “Alright, time out corner for you. I’m calling your parents right now.” She dragged him across the room to where the phone was and started pressing the buttons on it. Logan simply stood next to her, his thoughts straying as she began to speak into it. <em>I wasn’t wrong, but everyone says I am.</em></p><p>Two hours later when school was over, Logan was sitting at the art table waiting for his parents to show up. Ms. Lee was next to him, her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. They’d been sitting there for a good ten minutes already, although Logan wasn’t bored. His musings entertained him as he thought about the encounter earlier with Adeline. None of it made any sense- and things not making sense made him question everything. <em>I know I wasn’t wrong. If I was Adeline, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed the crayons were gone. I wouldn’t have been using them and therefore there would be no reason for the other person to ask about them. Why is everyone saying differently?</em></p><p>The door to the classroom opened, and in came Logan’s parents. His mother was clenching her purse tightly, and she stormed up to Ms. Lee. “Do you realize how much of a hassle it is to leave work just to have a talk about my son, who I have stated has a condition? The next time this happens, I will speak with the principal about your behavior. He has problems in social situations because he doesn’t have emotions! He doesn’t have empathy, so it doesn’t compute in his head that there would be a reason to apologize. I can’t believe I even came here, we could’ve settled this over the phone easily. Hanging up on someone like that is acting like a child, Stella! So, what did you do after you hung up?”</p><p>“I put him in the timeout corner,” Ms. Lee thrummed her fingers on the table. “He should know how to say sorry by now, he’s six years old! You need to teach him some manners. He bullies the other children; taking their things without asking, being inconsiderate, and saying incredibly mean things to them. I don’t care if he has some kind of condition; he needs to learn how to be a polite human being.”</p><p>While Logan’s father sat down at the table next to Logan and ruffled his son’s hair, Logan’s mother threw her purse on the table. “Are you serious? Putting him in the timeout corner will do <em>nothing</em>! He <em>doesn’t understand</em> that he did something wrong. Instead of punishing him meaninglessly, you should explain to him what’s going on. Logan, what do you think happened today?”</p><p>Looking between the two adults, Logan shrugged. “I needed some crayons, and Adeline wasn’t using the ones next to her. So, I took them so I could draw my picture like Ms. Lee told me to. Then Adeline told me that they were hers and that I should’ve asked, before calling over Ms. Lee and claiming I had stolen them. Ms. Lee told me to apologize for what I did. But I didn’t do anything wrong, so I didn’t say anything.”</p><p>“See?” his mother sighed. “He doesn’t know any better. Stella, I think if you were the one raising him, you would understand. I just need you to work with me here. If he does something bad, explain to him <em>why</em> it was bad instead of making such a big deal out of it.” She put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Logan, honey. You may not understand this, but you are the only one who doesn’t feel emotions. Emotions are invisible things inside of each person that influences their decisions, sometimes for better or for worse. A couple years ago, you had a surgery that removed the part of the brain that gives you emotions because it was diseased. So, although you might not think it reasonable, even if somebody doesn’t seem to have a need for a physical object in their possession, you should still ask if they are willing to part with it. And if they say you have wronged them, you should apologize if they give a good reason. Do you understand?”</p><p><em>Oh…</em> “Yes,” Logan nodded. As his mother continued to speak with Ms. Lee, he began to think. <em>I’m the only one who doesn’t have emotions? Because I don’t have a part of my brain?</em></p><p>
  <em>I need to find a way to get that part back so I can be a real human again.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Logan takes care of Jay because he's a doctor, and then they take another morning run.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With the door shut behind them and safety being a luxury they had for the time being, Jay and Logan took a moment to breathe. They were both heaving in giant breaths of air. Logan looked Jay up and down, focusing in on any symptoms that might be from a heart attack. After a few moments, he resolved that she was mostly fine- other than her arm, of course. Looking around, he spotted the nearest surgery room and went over to it, Jay following after a few seconds. She sat down on the operating bed while he went over to the tray of supplies. <em>I need to clean the wound and close it up. </em>This was certainly going to be a tricky business. He’d only done this a few times, back when he was training. <em>It should be fine- if I remember how to do it properly.</em> He carefully removed the sling and the piece of curtain from the arm.</p><p>Jay’s arm was an abomination. What had been completely normal-looking about an hour ago was now wretched-looking. Her entire limb from the mid-bicep down was jutting off in the wrong direction, and blood was still leaking from it. Logan thought for a moment before pulling Jay back up onto her feet and over to the sink, where he gently guided the injured arm under the faucet and turned on the water. Jay let out a shriek and lifted her left hand up to her mouth to bite down on her pointer finger, continuing to whimper. Logan avoided eye contact with her and instead went over to a cabinet to search for gauze pads. “Keep the injury under the water for seven minutes,” he told her as he pulled out a package of gauze sponges. “Once I’ve cleaned it more thoroughly, I’ll give you stitches. Then I’ll dress and bandage the wound. It will probably take about twenty to thirty minutes. Then I’ll put your arm in a real sling. As we are in a difficult situation and I am not an Orthopedist, I cannot commence surgery on your arm, which it will surely require. Once I have finished, we can head upstairs to warn the others. Any questions?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jay suddenly hissed and clenched her left hand into a tight fist. Then she looked over at him. “I know you said you weren’t comfortable talking about it, but since we have a lot of time on our hands… I wouldn’t mind you telling me a bit more about your condition. You can trust me, Logan. Whatever is wrong with you, I won’t hate you for it. I’m not gonna throw you at that guy for something you can’t control. As somebody who has to deal with a medical condition myself, I’m telling you that I won’t judge you. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get to know you a little better.”</p><p><em>Hmm…</em> There wasn’t a reason not to believe her. “Alright, if you really want to know. When I was four years old, it was discovered that I had a brain tumor centered in my limbic system- the part of the brain that controls emotions, fears, and memory. Instead of chemotherapy or some other technique, the doctor decided that the best option would just be to remove the area of the tumor entirely- I’ve reviewed all the files, and he was correct. So, the surgery was performed later the same year and I had a computer chip implanted into my brain to help me retain memories. Unfortunately, the side effects of this were that I no longer could feel fear or emotions. I do not have a fight or flight reflex, or any reflexes at all, and I cannot sense when I am in danger. I am unable to feel love for anyone, even my parents, and it is impossible to make me feel any sort of human emotion. Along with these consequences, computers are nowhere near as powerful as a human brain, which is why I forget things easily- although, situations like this where I have to process many things at once make it worse. You can imagine that growing up was very strange, as it took a long time for me to grasp the reason for being polite or kind to other people, as I cannot feel empathy. I am unable to pick up on social cues- if someone is nervous, or sad, or happy, I do not notice it. I simply cannot connect the dots between their mannerisms and their emotions. This resulted in me getting into trouble with other people because I would do something that is not accepted in society. When I was six, I learned of my condition and decided I would try my best to learn how brain transplants could be made possible so I could become truly human instead of the shell I am now. Any questions?”</p><p>The room went completely silent. Jay stared at him for a good minute, her jaw ajar. Then she spluttered out, “That’s some fucked-up shit. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting something like that. So, you’ve been living almost your entire life without emotions? That’s why you’re asexual, then.” She shook her head, still keeping her arm under the running tap. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell me before. Like I said, I’m not one of those motherfuckers who hate people with disabilities, so don’t worry about me throwing you under the bus.” Then she paused and frowned. “Can you worry about things? Is worry an emotion?”</p><p>“Yes,” Logan confirmed. “It is a facet of fear. The amygdala is labeled as the ‘fear’ center and is in the Limbic System, but it’s more primary function is keeping you alive. It is the part of your brain that senses danger and gives you an adrenaline rush, more commonly known as the fabled ‘fight or flight’ reflex. It also plays a primary role in other emotions and the ability to recognize those emotions in other people- empathy. So, no, I’m not worried about you throwing me under a bus. Of course, I don’t think there are any buses nearby to throw me under; if you really wanted me dead, you could just simply leave me to face the killer by myself.”</p><p>She stared at him for a bit before gesturing to her injured arm. “Has it been long enough? Can I take my arm out now?” When he nodded, she pulled her arm out from under the water and turned the faucet off. “Thank God- that was painful. Don’t tell me you cleaning it will feel worse. <em>Please</em> don’t tell me that.” She glared at the gauze pad in his hand as he walked over. He set the gauze down and turned the water back on, covering his hands in soap and washing them thoroughly. Then he soaked the gauze pad through and looked at Jay’s injury. It looked a lot cleaner than it had before, now that all the excess blood had been rinsed off. He was going to ignore her question but then reminded himself to be polite. “Yes, it will most likely hurt more than simply rinsing it. It is necessary to prevent an infection, though, so I will not allow you to say no.” With that, he softly began to wipe at the wound. Jay cried out, hissing and gritting her teeth as he continued without even a glance up at her face to see if she was alright. He was focused on his task, and either way it was for her benefit. At some point, there was only so much you could do for pain.</p><p>After a couple minutes of dabbing and patting at her arm, he dropped the gauze pad into the trash and went over to a different counter. <em>Where are the sutures?</em> They had to be here somewhere. Opening drawer after drawer, Logan finally found one that had more than enough boxes of stitches. He grabbed a box and returned to Jay, peeling the cardboard open and pulling out the needle. “Alright, you need to lie down on the bed. I will need you to stay completely still for this, is that understood? As I have not done this is a long time, any movement may easily disrupt me and cause me to accidentally hurt you.” He forced himself to meet Jay’s gaze, and she nodded. “Let’s start, then.”</p><p>Over the next ten minutes, Logan stitched up Jay’s wound. It was a painstakingly slow process, but fortunately he was able to complete the job without any mistakes. After he did this, he covered some gauze cloth in petroleum jelly and applied it against the new stitches. And as the final touch, he wrapped it all up with even <em>more</em> gauze cloth to keep it in place. Once this was all done, he took the curtain piece and cut it a bit to make a better sling, preparing it on Jay so her arm was resting inside snugly. They both stayed quiet the entire time, but Logan didn’t mind. He never minded anything. When he was finished, he walked over to the door and looked over his shoulder at her. “We should leave, now that your arm is in much better condition. Unless you’d prefer to stay here instead of warning the others.”</p><p>“Hell nah!” Jay jumped to her feet. “I ain’t a chicken. What about your leg?” She pointed down at his calf. There was a red streak of skin that had been shredded off due to the bullet, and blood was trickling down to his ankle. It didn’t hurt that much, though. Logan shrugged nonchalantly, “It’ll be fine, it’s just a flesh wound. We don’t have time to care for every tiny injury. Come on, let’s go.” Much to his amazement, Jay nodded and followed him out of the surgery room without trying to argue.</p><p>Luckily, Logan knew where the stairs were- he went by the emergency ward enough to know that even in a situation like this. All they had to do was take a left from where they were and then eventually a right. Making the turn, he led the way through the ward silently. Jay kept glancing at him, although he did not know why. <em>Is she worried about me? Is she </em>scared<em> of me?</em> He had no idea what it could mean, but he knew it wasn’t normal. “Is there something you want to say?” he asked her after a bit. Jay straightened her posture a little and cleared her throat. “Oh, um, no. I just- I can’t imagine what it must be like to not be able to feel anything. Emotions are so central to a person, and yet you don’t have any. A life like that must be pretty dull.”</p><p>“Hmm,” he thought about this for a moment. “Perhaps it would seem like that to you. But without emotions, you cannot get bored. So, if you didn’t have any you wouldn’t notice the difference. But yes, a life with feelings would certainly be preferable. People tend to not like spending their entire lives doing the same routine, which is what almost all people without emotions fall into. If they have no happiness, anger, or sadness, they have no motivation for anything. Without motivation, they will achieve nothing.”</p><p>She studied him a little, “What about you? You said you decided to be a neurosurgeon when you were six. If you don’t have motivation, what fuels you?”</p><p>“I see it as this; every person I’ve ever met has stated how much better a life with emotions is. Why would I not try to achieve that as well? I like to think I would enjoy it. Not only that, but I am not complete without them. I am not truly human without my humanity.” He turned right and then halted, Jay taking an extra step before stopping too.</p><p>Leaning on the railing of the stairs just ahead was the killer, his mace hanging carelessly from his hand over the side of the metal bar. His green scarf looked like it had been messily retied and his eyes were red and puffy. He took the few steps down the stairs that were below him and started making his way towards Logan and Jay. “I’ve been waiting for you! We didn’t get to finish our little game~!”</p><p>“Run!” Jay yelped, grabbing Logan’s arm and pulling him in the opposite direction of where they needed to go. Logan started running alongside her and they sprinted back the way they came. <em>What should we do now?</em> If the killer chased them, they wouldn’t be able to backtrack. The only other set of stairs were across the entire building. <em>That surely can’t be good for Jay’s health… but it’s the only option we have at the moment.</em> They went left and skidded to a halt in front of the closed door to the lobby. As Logan pulled the door open he said to Jay, “Go right and just keep going straight. We’ll run into the other stairs eventually.”</p><p>They swept out the door and after a few moments, bullets started raining past them again. Sprinting away from the lobby, they were soon out of range and luckily hadn’t been hit. The gunshots stopped when Logan heard the door open again and footsteps began to follow them. <em>The terrorists won’t shoot at the killer… interesting.</em> So, they <em>had</em> been coordinated like he had theorized. The terrorists had been a distraction at the same time as they had kept them inside. Who would have thought there was a murderer wandering the hospital while the terrorists waited outside? <em>Hopefully, the police take care of the situation soon.</em> If the terrorists were arrested, then everyone could flee and escape the killer- perhaps the police could even catch him.</p><p>Logan and Jay didn’t stop for anything. They both knew that the killer was right behind them, and they needed to run until they found a safe hiding place. <em>Where could we hide, though?</em> Logan wasn’t very familiar with the second and third floors, so he had no idea his way around them. <em>We’ll just have to hide in the first place we see.</em></p><p>A few minutes of running later, Logan spotted the stairs up ahead. Whispering to Jay with some of the last bit of breath he had left, he said, “Keep an eye out for somewhere to hide when we reach the second floor. It’ll be our only way to lose him.” She nodded and the two of them began their ascent up the staircase, taking the steps three at a time. Logan glanced behind them, seeing that the killer wasn’t actually that close; they had managed to gain some ground on him. <em>If we’re fast enough and there’s a room to hide in just beside the stairs, we might be able to get rid of him.</em> It was a risk, but a risk they would have to take.</p><p>Logan and Jay sprang up the final steps and onto the second floor. Just as Logan was beginning to look around, Jay grabbed his hand and dragged him to a nearby door and threw them both inside, shutting the door behind them. It was the ladies’ bathroom. There were eight stalls in a long line, with the sinks on the opposing wall. There were two large trash cans on either side of the room. “Shit,” Jay hissed, “Where are we supposed to hide? He’ll check all the stalls! It’s not like we can turn invisible!”</p><p><em>Hmm…</em> It would have to be a more unconventional hiding spot. What was in the bathroom? Stalls, toilets, sinks, trash cans- <em>trash cans?</em> Logan popped the lid off the one next to them and looked inside. It was nearly empty, with only a few pieces of paper at the bottom. “Get in,” he told Jay. “Quickly, we don’t have much time. Make sure it’s latched on securely as to throw off any suspicion.” As she climbed on in, he made his way over to the other trash bin and took the lid off, swinging a leg over the side and putting the top back on. Darkness surrounded him, with only a single light source coming from the open slot where people were supposed to throw their used paper towels after drying their hands.</p><p>It was only a few moments before he heard the door creak open. Footsteps echoed against the tile floor and the killer’s high-pitched voice spoke. “Come out wherever you are! We haven’t had any real fun yet!” There was a loud <em>thump!</em> and one of the stall doors opened. Silence- then another one was kicked open. This continued until Logan heard the eighth one, and the killer heaved a sigh. “Oh well, guess I’ll just have to look elsewhere. They must’ve gone to the mens’ bathroom!” With that, his quiet giggling headed away from Logan and the <em>clack!</em> of the door shutting let them know their hunter was gone.</p><p>He waited a minute or two before prying the lid off and jumping out. Jay had already gotten out and her nose was scrunched up. “Remind me never to do that again.” She glared at the trash bin she’d hidden in. Logan nodded and replaced the lid, looking into one of the mirrors. It was hard to see his reflection clearly, as he had lost his glasses, but he could see that his nose was crooked and blood had dried around it.</p><p>This day had certainly taken its toll- and he had no idea if there was more to come.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As of publishing this chapter, AO3 is now caught up to where I actually am at writing the series. I have been publishing this series since April on a different fanfic site, Quotev, so since I had so many chapters already published I was releasing chapters on here every 2 days. Sadly, now that we've caught up, you must wait the full 6 days between chapter releases. Apologies, but it's just the way it must be.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They run across some other people and come up with a plan.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They stayed in the bathroom for a bit longer, in case the killer had decided to puppy-guard the exit. Logan sat on the counter and turned on the sink next to him, using some paper towels and water to clean the bullet graze on his leg. He would get it checked out after all of this was over, but it certainly did not need any of the attention that he’d given to Jay’s arm. Jay crouched against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, she asked, “Do you know why the terrorists and this guy came here? I mean, I don’t see a reason why anybody would do this. Why would somebody want to kill so many people?”</p><p>He thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “There’s no way to know for sure. From the times we’ve run into him, it seems he has some kind of mental issue, or issues. He seems to enjoy torturing people, and he mentioned Jeffrey Dahmer, so he might be a sex offender. I can’t imagine pulling any other Jeffrey Dahmer ‘tricks’ than ones that were to do with raping young men. In light of all that information, I can safely say that it isn’t really his fault that he is this way. Mental illness isn’t a choice. For instance, I can’t control that I have no emotions; part of my brain was removed. In his case, his brain works very differently from everyone else’s. Of course, the more someone indulges in bad habits, the easier it becomes to <em>do</em> those habits. It’s a mix of a lot of things, how someone ends up like him. As for the terrorists, they might have just been recruited by the killer to keep us in the hospital, in which case they’re not actually terrorists.” Logan slid off the counter and headed over to the door. “It doesn’t matter anyways; the only thing we need to worry about is staying safe. The police can do the detective work.” Jay hummed in response, standing up and following him.</p><p>They exited the bathroom and glanced around. The killer was nowhere to be seen; he must’ve moved on. Logan spotted the map of the second floor on the wall next to the stairs and went over to look at it. They were in the Gynecology ward. <em>Dr. Wilson should be around here somewhere... we need to find her and her patients fast, or the killer will first.</em> “This way,” he began walking down the large hall and Jay jogged over to join him. They stayed silent- Logan was glad for that. It allowed him to think without interruption, and it also was helpful because they were less likely to get caught by the killer if they were stealthy. He wondered if he could’ve turned out like the demented man. <em>Unlike other people, I don’t have any morals posed by emotions. I could kill an entire nation without guilt…</em></p><p>Eventually, they reached the main Gynecology room door, with the <strong>GYNECOLOGY</strong> sign above it. Logan looked over at Jay as he put his hand on the knob. “We should be careful. If the killer has already found them here and killed them, he might still be torturing some of them. Stay quiet, and stay hidden. Of course, there’s the possibility that they aren’t even here. Just- be careful.” He turned the knob and opened the door, peering around the edge of the doorframe.</p><p>Inside the room was a small group of people, standing together talking in whispers. Their clothes had splatters of blood on them, but they didn’t seem to be injured except for a man sitting on one of the hospital beds, whose left leg from the knee down was gone. Logan went through the door without much caution, as it was obvious these people had survived an attack from the killer and were not dangerous. At the sound of the door opening, everyone whipped around, eyes wide in horror. When they saw it was just Logan and Jay, they seemed to relax. One of them, a short man with a shaved head wearing a suit, came over to them. Logan recognized him as one of the other Cardiology nurses, Nurse Smith. “Ah, Dr. Sanders! We weren’t sure what happened to you- it seems you got attacked.”</p><p>Logan nodded, “We went looking for Intern Kyle Hart, as I sent him to fetch some water and he never returned and I didn’t want to leave Jay unattended. When we arrived at the kitchens, we discovered both Hart and Dr. Powers had been brutally murdered. On the way back to the Cardiology ward we were ambushed by the killer. I didn’t know anyone had survived the attack while we were gone, though. How did you escape?”</p><p>“Well,” Nurse Smith put his hands on his hips, “There were obviously a lot of people in there. While that guy was killing everyone else we managed to slip out. Mr. Diamandis here got his leg ripped off, but then the guy left him alone to take care of the others so we grabbed him before we ran. We made straight for here and found everyone else, told them to go upstairs- we stayed here because of Mr. Diamandis. We thought our chances of the killer finding us would be less if there wasn’t a ton of people in here making lots of noise, and if we try to make it to the third floor we might get killed on the way there.” He glanced at Jay and frowned. “How bad is her arm? Sprained or broken?”</p><p>“Badly broken,” Logan met Jay’s gaze for a moment before he looked back at Nurse Smith. “I stitched up a gash on it, too. We only came up here to warn the others, and considering the killer has now moved up to the second floor, we should probably go straight to the third floor. Nurse Smith, I know that may sound dangerous, but staying in one place is more so. He will no doubt find you and kill you all. We have no choice but to try our luck.”</p><p>Everyone stayed silent. The others gave each other strange looks- ones that Logan did not know what meant. Nurse Smith’s eyes flickered to his companions and then back at Logan. “Um, can you give us a moment? To talk about it?” Then, without even waiting for an answer, he turned around and they all huddled in a tight circle, whispering to one another. It seemed strange that they hadn’t agreed immediately; Logan’s plan was much better than theirs. Staying put would only lead to their deaths. He leaned over to Jay and said in a quiet voice, “Am I missing something? Do they have any reason in particular to stay here? Is there something in this room worth protecting?”</p><p>Jay thought about it for a moment, frowning. Then she shrugged, “I don’t know, your guess is as good as mine. But, I <em>think</em> they might just be scared. Y’know, action is scarier than inaction. It’s a lot harder to actually do something than sit around and hope for the best. Obviously, your way is better, but they’re <em>really</em> scared. I would be too, except I’ve already faced up to this killer dude and survived <em>twice</em>. Yes, staying here will most likely get them killed. But going out that door and into the unknown? That’s difficult.”</p><p>“Oh,” he said. Of course he hadn’t realized that. Without any emotions himself, he would’ve never known. <em>Empathy is the human species’ most powerful form of communication… and I lack it.</em> This was all the more reason why he needed to finish his research, to find out if a brain transplant was possible. Because if it <em>was</em>, his life could be completely turned around. People wouldn’t be so uncomfortable around him. Logan would finally be a <em>real </em>human being, capable of feeling so many wondrous things and being able to truly connect with others, instead of continuing on forever as a blank replica. That’s what would happen if it <em>wasn’t</em> possible. What would he do with himself then? His whole life had been dedicated to finding out the answer, and without the answer he wanted, there was no hope. It’s not like he didn’t like his life; that was impossible. But if he would never be able to <em>enjoy</em> it… <em>What would be the point of continuing to live?</em> In fact, there <em>wouldn’t</em> be a point. It would be pointless. Meaningless, a waste of time. <em>No use thinking about that now, I might not even survive this incident.</em></p><p>The group of survivors then broke up their huddle and Nurse Smith came back over to Logan and Jay. “Alright,” he looked down at the floor. “We’ll go upstairs with you. But I don’t think we’ll all make it if we go together- that’s too big of a group. We have nine people here, excluding myself. You’re smart, Dr. Sanders, do you think there’s a way we could deal with that?” He put his hands in his pockets, looking up at Logan’s face. Logan looked anywhere but Nurse Smith’s face as he responded. “Yes, we could easily split up into two or three groups. Unfortunately, both staircases have windows on them, so we’ll have to take the elevators. I hesitate on the elevators, though, because if we arrive on floor three and the killer is there, we won’t have anywhere to run to- we have no choice, though, unless we want to risk getting shot. If we split into three groups of four, we can all go one after the other on the safe path that the first group will navigate. This means that all the groups will need a way of communicating with each other. My phone is dead, but someone could lend me theirs.”</p><p>“Hey, Kevin?” Nurse Smith glanced over his shoulders at tall man with a shock of ice-blue hair. “Mind giving Dr. Sanders your phone until this is over?” When Kevin nodded, the nurse turned back to Logan. “Alright, you’ve got a phone. I’ll lead the third group, if that’s okay with you- what about you?”</p><p><em>Hmm…</em> Logan would most likely be best suited for taking the first group out, but he couldn’t risk Jay’s safety. They couldn’t separate, either; Logan had one job, and that was to keep Jay safe. “Jay and I will accompany the second group. If one of you could take the first group, that would be most excellent. And in case the police call about the terrorists, we should probably have a code for phone rings. Two rings for safe, three rings for hide- in case the terrorists actually come inside, or something else occurs. Actual phone calls would take too long and would be too loud. Got it?”</p><p>“Two rings for safe and three for hide, yep. I’ll ask Dr. Bellamont to lead the first group, then.” Nurse Smith grimaced and returned to his own people. Logan sat down on one of the hospital beds, Jay sitting across from him on another one. She clasped her hands together and looked at her feet dangling just above the ground, almost as if she was praying, but her eyes remained open. Open and… misty. <em>Is she going to cry?</em> Logan wondered what it would be like to cry. He had never had a reason to cry after his surgery. What would it be like? To be in such emotional or physical pain to have drips of salty water pour down his face, to show signs of actual feelings to other people? What would it be like to lose somebody he actually cared about and cry for them? To scream for them? To <em>kill</em> himself because he couldn’t bear to live without that one person, to miss something about a person, to <em>love</em> something?</p><p>What was it like to be a human being?</p><p>Because whatever Logan was, he was not human.</p><p>The first group was organized and it left, led by Dr. Bellamont. After fifteen minutes had passed, Nurse Smith advised that Logan and his three followers should leave, unless there was any particular reason for staying. Without so much as a word, Logan stood up and made his way over to the door. Two of the others- neither of which he knew the names of- joined him and Jay, and the four of them exited the main Gynecology room and into the open. Logan wasn’t really paying attention to anything but his internal thought process, though, letting one of the other two lead the way. His parents had always told him that, when faced with the choice to let him die or keep him alive, they had loved him so much that even though they knew he would never love them again, they were going to keep him alive so he could live a fulfilling life. But his life <em>wasn’t</em> fulfilling. It was the same days over and over again, without any sort of spark to make a day different from all the thousands of others. He had no purpose, no motivations, other than to fix himself. Then what? <em>If</em> he managed to fix himself, his whole life’s work would be over. There would be nothing left for him to do. Not to mention how hard it would be to cope with all his newfound feelings. Was it really all worth it?</p><p>“Logan!” someone hissed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back into reality and behind a wall. It was Jay; she was peering around the corner, her eyes narrowed. He peeked around her to see the elevators up ahead, and in front of them was a battle happening. It appeared that the first group had run into trouble, as the killer was in the middle of knocking one of their heads off. <em>Snap!</em> The person crumpled to the ground, and the other three dived for one of the elevator doors. Jay suddenly took off towards them, letting out a battle cry. “Jay!” Logan ran after her, pulling out his knife. <em>I can’t let her fight the killer- I’ll have to do it myself.</em> “Get into the elevator, I’ll hold him off!”</p><p>Before the killer could even turn around, Logan had reached him and kicked his knee, causing him to topple over. The survivors of the first group and his fellow companions waited for the elevator to arrive, Jay continuously pressing the button to call it up. The killer stood back up and swung his mace at Logan, but Logan had already taken a couple steps back to avoid it. <em>I don’t have pepper water to save me this time.</em> If he could just hold the man off until the elevator arrived, he might be able to jump in before the door closed. <em>Hopefully, it doesn’t take too long in getting here.</em></p><p>Holding the knife carefully, Logan swung it at the killer. The killer ducked out of the way and tried to jump towards the others, but Logan grabbed his arm and yanked him back. His opponent cackled and pulled him close. “If you wanted me to stay, you could’ve just said so~” Logan used this moment to his advantage, slicing at the killer’s arm. <em>Shlip!</em> The sound of flesh being pierced was accompanied by the killer letting out a yelp and a few choice words, and he stumbled backwards. Just then, the elevator dinged and everyone rushed inside. Logan stared at the man for an extra moment before joining them, and the steel doors slid shut.</p><p>None of them moved for a couple seconds until Logan pressed the <em>Floor 1</em> button and slid down against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. Jay frowned at him. “Why are we going to the first floor? Aren’t we going to floor three?”</p><p>“The killer knows exactly where we’re going,” he responded quietly. “He’ll be up there when we get there, if he’s fast enough. Escaping to the third floor is not our goal now; the only reason why we would even go up there now is because the remaining people need to be warned. Hopefully, the police call soon and this will all be over, but until then everyone in the building needs to meet up in one place to discuss our next course of action. I want you seven to stay in my office while I go upstairs to the third floor.”</p><p>Before he could get another word out, Jay slapped his arm. “Not on my watch! Logan, you’re the worst person to go up there. If you run into the killer, you’ll get murdered! You don’t have any reflexes and you’re obviously exhausted. And what about protecting me, huh? If you go, then I go. Considering how many times I’ve had to save your ass, you won’t be able to survive without me. Got it?” She then glared at all the other people, her gaze flitting between each one of them. “Are you a bunch of chickens, or are you gonna help Logan rescue those people? He won’t be able to do it by himself.”</p><p>To Logan’s surprise, every one of them gave a nod of determination.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Finale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Logan and Jay take one final risk to save the rest of the people in the hospital.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taking in a few deep breaths, Logan pulled out his borrowed phone. The last group needed to be warned about the killer and told to go downstairs. His hands were trembling as he scrolled through the contacts and selected Nurse Smith. <em>Jay was right… I </em>am <em>exhausted.</em> He’d been sprinting, fighting, thinking, and now his body was starting to give out on him. <em>I can’t keep this up for long.</em> At some point, he was going to collapse and he wouldn’t be able to get back up. <em>This needs to be done, though. It’s strange how they’re all coming with me… they’re not needed, and it will risk their own lives. I’m expendable; I’m not human like them. I would make Jay stay, but I know she’ll follow me no matter what. </em>It was going to be very difficult, keeping them all out of harms’ way. <em>Sometimes I wish they weren’t human like me, so they could actually see reason.</em> There were only two rings before Nurse Smith’s voice came over. “Dr. Sanders?”</p><p>“Nurse Smith,” he responded. “Unfortunately, the killer was expecting us at the elevator, and had already killed one from group one. We’re heading down to the first floor to take the stairs instead upstairs to warn the others. You should take the opposite stairs down to the first floor as well, but stay there. The killer will most likely head up to the third floor like us, since we’ve been continuously trying to get to higher ground. You should be safe in my office, in the Neurology ward. Do not leave for any reason, unless the police call and tell you it is safe to leave the premises. Do you understand?”</p><p>“Yeah, I got the gist of it,” Nurse Smith sighed. “Be careful out there.” The call ended, and Logan stuck the phone back in his pocket. It was then that the elevator halted and the steel doors opened wide, the way into danger now open again. Everyone filed out silently, and before they started to head towards the stairs Logan turned to face them all. “Once again, I’m asking you to stay here. It makes no sense for all of us to go; in fact, it’ll make us more likely to get caught. At most, only three should go, but two or one would be much more preferable. I’m saying this because your lives are important, and you should not die trying to save someone else.”</p><p>None of them said anything for the longest twenty seconds. Then Jay shook her head. “Alright, fine, Logan. But I’m going to be one of the ones with you. Anybody else want to come? Apparently, we only have one more spot open. Don’t feel obligated to join us, though- he’s right. It’ll mean risking your life again, and you have a right not to do that.”</p><p>This was so, so strange. Everything about this was. All these people had volunteered their lives to help Logan save others. They didn’t want him to die. <em>Why do they care?</em> Nobody had ever cared about Logan, except for his parents. Everyone had also thought of him as the odd one out, the cruel one, the cold one, the one who didn’t care about anyone, not even his own family. So, why did they want to help him now?</p><p>One of them, a woman with long blonde hair in a nurse’s uniform, stepped forward. <em>Anna Tracy.</em> She smiled a little at him. “I’ll go- I’ve taken a couple self defense classes, so I should be able to fend the killer off if he attacks me. Let’s go, then!” Nurse Tracy started to jog away, and Logan looked back at the others. “Remember, go to my office and stay there. Nurse Smith should arrive there in the next ten to twenty minutes with the last survivors. We’ll be back as soon as possible with everyone else.” Then he started running after Nurse Tracy, Jay by his side.</p><p>Deciding that now was as good a time as any, Logan turned his head to look at Jay. “Why did everyone want to come with me? I would think they should want to preserve their own lives, as any logical human would do. Self-preservation is more important than helping other people.”</p><p>“Then why were you the first one to suggest going to help the others, dumbass?” she laughed a little. “You inspired them, Logan. I get the feeling from what you’ve told me that you don’t usually act like this. You readily volunteered to go up there, <em>alone</em>, when you’re tired and injured, even though you don’t actually care about them at all. To be honest, you just acted the most human out of us all. You try so hard to be ‘human’, that you’re even more ‘human’ than anybody else. One day, you’re gonna realize that you <em>are</em> human, just like the rest of us. Just because you had part of your brain removed doesn’t change that.”</p><p>“The definition of being humane means to have to show compassion or benevolence,” Logan pointed out. “I do not have either. I’m only doing this because anyone else would, not because I want to.”</p><p>Jay huffed, “Logan, that’s exactly my point! They <em>wouldn’t</em> have! They were too scared to even come up with the <em>idea</em> to help the people on the third floor! They wanted to go with you because you showed what a truly good person is- somebody who risks their own life to help others. Yeah, you might not actually care about them, but who cares? You’re still doing it! I don’t want to hear any more of this ‘I’m not a real human’ business anymore, because you <em>are</em>. You’re nothing less than the rest of us.” When he didn’t reply to this, she gave him a meaningful look- one he could obviously not decipher. “I’m gonna keep telling you that until you believe me, sound good?”</p><p>“Hey!” Nurse Tracy called back to them from up ahead. “Found the stairs, you might want to keep it down from now on, or the killer will hear us.” Indeed; she was standing on the third step of the stairwell that went up to the second floor. <em>Hopefully, the killer isn’t waiting for us.</em> Jay rolled her eyes and she passed by the other woman. “Yeah, and yelling at us totally won’t alert him too.” She let out a snort, and the three of them started heading up.</p><p>These stairs were the same ones that Jay and Logan had gone up before, as they sprinted for their lives. Logan could feel that with each step he took, the harder it was to lift his legs, to push himself forward. He wondered if Jay was having the same trouble, as they had done the same amount of physical activity. <em>Her heart will need to be checked on after this- none of this should have given her any sort of good effects.</em> Once this was over, Logan was going to take the rest of the day off work- which would surely be something the hospital would allow after such a traumatic event. He wasn’t sure if the chip in his head could take too much strain, either. <em>Is it possible for it to overheat? Can it break? Will I forget my entire life?</em> Maybe he should have the doctor who had installed it when he was four take a look at it. <em>Perhaps it needs to be replaced anyways, as I am now much older.</em> They went past the second floor, being careful of the windows on the outer edge of the building. If the terrorists- or whoever they were- noticed them, they were bound to shoot.</p><p>The past few hours had been the strangest in his lifetime. So many things were happening all at once. He had made a… <em>friend</em> of sorts, if he could call it that. Jay seemed to appreciate him to some degree. But friendship went both ways, so although Jay was his friend, he wasn’t <em>her</em> friend. <em>A friend is a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.</em> <em>I cannot feel affection for Jay, therefore we are not friends.</em> That was it. There was no battling with the dictionary. But perhaps Jay didn’t agree?</p><p>“Jay,” Logan glanced at her, “Do you consider me a friend?”</p><p>Her eyes flickered over to him and then back at the way ahead. “Psh, that’s a question? Of course I do! We’ve been through more together today than I ever have with anyone else. Yeah, I know you can’t really care for me, but I like you. As long as you’re around, that’s good enough for me. Are you okay with that?”</p><p>As he mounted the last step, he began to speak. “I think that-” Nurse Tracy suddenly stopped and he crashed into her, sending them both tumbling onto the ground. Jay’s eyes widened and she whispered, “It’s him.” Logan followed her gaze, and indeed; there stood the killer, his mace over one shoulder and his other hand on his hip. <em>How did he know we’d take the stairs? Why didn’t he wait at the elevators?</em> Had the killer really been that smart as to figure out their entire plan? <em>What can we do now?</em> Logan looked back at Jay. She wasn’t in any condition to fight; her arm was in a sling, she looked exhausted, and her breath was coming in too quickly. <em>I have to get her to safety- otherwise she’ll have a heart attack.</em> Nurse Tracy scrambled back onto her feet, her intelligent eyes flickering around the hall. He pushed himself off the ground, facing the killer. <em>I can’t calm her down… but Nurse Tracy can.</em></p><p>Pulling out the knife, Logan threw himself at the killer and yelled, “You two, get out of here!” The killer seemed to have anticipated his move, for he slid to the side and Logan halted a few feet away. Nurse Tracy and Jay took off down the hall, running for their lives. The killer tried to run after them, but Logan grabbed his scarf and hauled him back. <em>Rip!</em> The green fabric tore at such a force and sent Logan falling back onto the tile floor. His opponent plucked the scarf off his neck and examined it a little before tossing it away, turning his full attention to Logan. <em>Too late to run.</em> Logan was going to have to fight him alone- and somehow survive. He didn’t have any reflexes, instincts, or awareness- all he <em>did</em> have was a cold knife, which had only felt flesh and blood twice now. Tightening his grip around the handle, Logan asked himself an important question. <em>Am I willing to risk my entire career to kill this murderer?</em></p><p>The answer was obvious. <em>The lives of others matter more than mine.</em></p><p>The mace of the killer was flying towards him then, and Logan just managed to roll out of the way. <em>Thunk!</em> The weapon’s spikes pierced through the tile floor, bits of the mosaic crumbling off it as the killer pulled it back up. <em>I can’t win while he has that mace.</em> How to get it away from him was the real issue, though. <em>Cut off his hand? Knock it away?</em> Logan jumped up, trying to come up with an idea. The killer turned and swung again, and as it came close to Logan’s face, he smashed his knife into the base of the mace where the killer was holding it. With a loud <em>clang!</em> the weapon went flying away, but the impact of the hit sent nerves firing up Logan’s entire arm, causing him to drop the knife. It bounced away a bit, leaving both of their weapons out of reach. <em>What happens now?</em></p><p>A punch to the face informed him of that. Logan felt his nose light on figurative fire, blood splattering onto the killer’s fist and the floor. He fell back down again and realized just how unrealistic winning the fight was. <em>I’m really going to die today… perhaps it’s for the best.</em> This life- <em>his</em> life- didn’t mean anything, it didn’t <em>matter</em>. What made humans able to want freedom, to want justice, to want fulfillment was their emotions. He didn’t <em>have</em> any, which took away anything a real human could ever want. It didn’t matter if he was gone. Logan had no real impact on anyone’s life, and his own life was completely meaningless. <em>Why fight back?</em></p><p>The killer put a foot down on Logan’s right shoulder, putting his entire weight on it. <em>Pop!</em> Logan let out a quiet scream, pain flooding up his shoulder and into his neck. Through the haze of it, he thought to himself, <em>It’s dislocated, not broken. It would’ve made a cracking sound if it was broken. All I have to do is put it back in place, which shouldn’t be too hard.</em> He’d never felt this much pain in his entire life, except maybe in his nose currently. Everything <em>hurt</em>, but he didn’t care. He <em>couldn’t</em> care.</p><p>Suddenly, the phone in his back pocket started ringing. <em>Once, twice.</em> Then it stopped. <em>The code… the police have abducted the terrorists!</em> The killer, who had still been standing on his now- injured shoulder, grinned widely. “What was that? Your girlfriend calling to ask if you’re still alive? I’ll give her the bad news in a couple minutes.”</p><p>“Actually,” Logan said through gritted teeth, “One, I don’t have a girlfriend. Two, it’s Nurse Smith informing me that the police have arrested the terrorists, so the entire building will evacuate to prevent you from killing any more people. I’m afraid to say that your killing spree will now come to an end. You can either kill me and then escape, or let me live. The choice is entirely yours; I don’t care either way.” He closed his eyes, accepting his fate. <em>From what I’ve seen, he will not give me mercy.</em></p><p>The weight on his arm evaporated, and Logan blinked his eyes open to see the killer had stepped away. The killer narrowed his eyes at Logan, frowning slightly. “I don’t understand you. Good thing we’ll get another chance to get to know each other soon.” With that, he ran to the stairs and with a loud <em>crash!</em> he threw himself out of the window, glass smashing into a thousand small shards that scattered everywhere. Slowly, Logan sat himself up and then made his way to the broken window, looking out over the edge of the building. The killer was scaling down the side of the building via a pole that went all the way down to the ground. Within thirty seconds he had reached the cement below and took off running, away from the hospital that he had left in such tragedy. <em>I should contact the police about him.</em> Taking the phone out of his back pocket, he managed to dial their number without his right arm.</p><p>“I’m calling about a serial killer that has just escaped the hospital premises,” he said when the operator picked up.</p><p>***</p><p>One week later, Logan was stepping off the bus and walking back to his apartment after a days’ work at the hospital. Despite his still-healing arm and new glasses balanced on his now-crooked nose, he hadn’t suffered from anything despite how many times he’d come face-to-face with the killer. The police were looking into who the killer might be, and Logan had heard that they thought it was linked to the Angelica Case that had taken place a month before in Manhattan, NYC. <em>I wouldn’t be surprised.</em> Of course, for a killer to jump across the entire country like that was rather strange, but Logan didn’t wonder too much about it. It had nothing to do with him. <em>I won’t have to deal with any of that again.</em></p><p>He’d visited Jay a couple times over the week. Her arm had been set and was just starting the long process of healing now, but from what her doctors had said Logan knew she would be fine. Jay had begged for any and all details about the killer, as she was very interested in it. It seemed that Logan had gained his very first friend, and he’d decided it was for the best.</p><p>As he reached his door and pulled out his keys, Logan noticed a slip of paper resting on the ground. He crouched down to look at it closer. <em>Logan</em>. Unfolding it, Logan discovered a small letter written on the inside. <em>Silverbridge Rd. 24601, Gainesville Florida. November 1<sup>st</sup> 2020. If you wish to become human again, come to the given address on the provided date. –J. S.</em> Other than that, it was completely blank. He stared at it, and then put it into his pocket.</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps my chance has come sooner than expected.</em>
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  <em>********************</em>
</p><p><em>Keep reading in the next installment, </em>Lies #4: Victim.</p>
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